


Burn

by VioletGreen



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Bloodplay, Drugs, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Mind Control, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 00:17:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4242195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletGreen/pseuds/VioletGreen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John stumble onto a case that looks like something out of grims fairy-tales. John thinks it's a vampire but Sherlock tells him he is being an idiot. Little do they know when they chase down their lead suspect what lies in store for them. An old enemy who really isn't dead but how?<br/>With the help of some America's (who call themselves Hunters), a sassy redhead, and an angel?...Sherlock must race to get to his blogger before it's to late and to try and rid the world of his arch-enemy once and for all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy my new fic. I wanted to do a SuperLock for a little while now. I will still work on my other one but this has been in my head for some time. I wanted to start writing it down. I hope I do the Winchester's justice.

“Sherlock, wait!” John yelled. They had been running through the streets chasing down a suspect that Sherlock knew committed a triple homicide. The case was an odd one for Sherlock, one he never seen before.

5 hours earlier…DI Lestrade was standing outside the entrance of an alley next to a very active nightclub when Sherlock and John walked up to him. “No one saw or heard a thing and yet,” Greg huffed, running a hand through his silver hair, “I’ve never seen anything like this, Sherlock. This is way beyond me.” They walked down the alley until they were standing over the three bodies and all of which were males - one blonde, one red head and one brunette.  


As the examined the bodies Sherlock saw that there was no link between the victims and no patterns as to why they were chosen. Also the murderer used some kind of tool in order to drain the victims of their blood from two puncher wounds on the side of their necks.  


It looked like something out of a fairytale, John mentioned but Sherlock shrugged off that notion of John’s brain being too small.  


"Sherlock, what if it's a vampire?" John asked in all seriousness.  


"Don't be an idiot, John. They don't exist," Sherlock scoffed.  


“Then tell me what you think it is because as a doctor I’ve never seen this before,” John replied irritatingly.  


But, Sherlock couldn’t answer him. Instead he just turned and hailed a cab, leaving John behind. A few hours past before John heard from Sherlock again and when he did it was a text message with an address. So, John grabbed his gun and headed out.

Now, they ran alongside an abandon warehouse after their lead suspect. The criminal ducked inside so Sherlock rushed in before John could catch up to him.  


“Hurry up, John! We’re losing him!” Sherlock shouted over his shoulder, and then he disappeared inside.  


“No, Sherlock, stop!” John called out but it was too late. Sherlock was gone. John stopped at the door. It was too dark to see inside. “Damn it,” John spat angrily. Taking out his phone he saw he had no bars. "Perfect," John grumbled. Putting his phone away, his grip tightened on the gun in his hand as he stepped inside the darkness of the building and called out, “Sherlock?” When no answer came he continued further into the warehouse until he heard, “John, look out!” But, John didn’t react fast enough. The gun was knocked out of his hand and before he could get a swing in John was hit in the stomach, forcing him to double over in pain. Two different pairs of hands grabbed hold of either side of him before he could fight back. The needle slipped into John’s neck easily, forcing the doctor’s body to slump over as darkness took hold. 

*****

When John finally started to come too, he felt something tugging at his hair. He was going to try to lift his hands but realized he couldn't move them.  


_Great,_ John thought irritatedly.  


"You know I could think of a few things to do with this one," a male voice purred. John felt the hands running through his hair tighten slightly. “It would be so much fun to listen to him scream.”  


“Leave him alone.” John heard Sherlock warn in a low rumble.  


John's eyes snapped open at that point and frowned at the sight before him. Sherlock was tied to a chair and glaring at whoever was standing behind him. Suddenly the fingers were gone and the man slowly came into view. John realized it was the suspect they were chasing and right now he was smiling at Sherlock. The man was about Sherlock’s height with bleach blonde hair, tattoos and piercing all over his body. He was wearing a black leather vest and blue jeans. He didn’t look anything like John was expecting him too because the criminals they had put away looked higher class then this lot. However the man’s smile was a little unnerving, John noted.  


“The Great Sherlock Holmes,” the leader smirked before he turned to look at John. “And his faithful lap dog.”  


John glared at the man. He hated that everyone referred him as Sherlock’s pet other than the detective’s companion or friend. It really pissed him off. “I’m not his pet,” John snapped angrily.  


“John, hush,” Sherlock hissed.  


The man laughed at the exchange between the two. He walked over to stand in front of John. “Oh, master says for you to be silent, little doggie.” The man flicked John’s nose and that’s all it took for John to lung forward enough to bite the man's finger. The man was screaming in pain and holding his hand, cursing while shouting about it bleeding.  


“He doesn’t like it when people call him my pet, obliviously,” Sherlock mused. He was smiling at John, who in return couldn’t help but smile back at his friend.  


The man suddenly turned, fisting his good hand into John’s hair, yanking his head back and snarled, “I’m going to enjoy killing you, you little…”  


“Let. Him. Go.”  


Suddenly John was released and the man back away quickly. John turned his gaze from him to Sherlock who wasn’t looking at him but straight ahead. John was out of view of whoever it was he was staring at but when the mystery man spoke again John felt just as shocked at Sherlock looked.  


"It’s raining, it’s pouring Sherlock is boring. I’m laughing; I’m crying Johnny boy is dying…” James Moriarty sang as he stepped into view. “Did you miss me?” He was wearing his trade mark dark blue Westwood suit, his hair looked perfect, and his smile was deadly just like the man himself. He walked up to Sherlock, completely ignoring John for the time being. “You’re looking spry for a corpse.”  


“I could say the same about you,” Sherlock retorted bitterly.  


Moriarty made a pouty face. “Oh, don't sound so bitter, Sherlykins.” Then his face changed to something between a smile and annoyance. “But, I must confess I wasn’t expecting the dynamite duo, buuuut since you’re here I guess we could have a little fun before my meeting.” He looked over at John and licked his licks, forcing a shiver down the doctor’s spine. Moriarty giggled and turned his attention back to Sherlock. “I know you’re a man of science, Sherly, but are you a man of faith?”  


“What kind of question is that?” Sherlock scoffed.  


“The kind that makes me want to test if you believe in a high power that will be able to save your poor defenseless pet from me,” Moriarty cooed as he turned and walked until he stood in front of John. “Hello, Johnny boy.” Moriarty reached out his hand and started to caress John’s cheek.  


John looked from him to Sherlock who was glaring at the master criminal. It made John feel slightly better but then Moriarty stepped closer until their bodies were touching. John swallowed hard, sweat beating his forehead.  


“What’s the matter, Johnny boy?” Moriarty asked, leaning down until his face was inches from John’s. “Cat got your tongue or is that me?”  


Without warning, Moriarty pressed his lips to John’s. John was too shocked to move. That wasn’t something he was anticipating to happen. He didn’t want to be Moriarty’s focus. Sherlock was supposed to be. So why in the hell was Moriarty kissing him? Suddenly Moriarty bit down on John’s bottom lip making the doctor open his mouth with a yelp of pain. Moriarty smirked as his tongue now began to explore John’s mouth, leaving no part unexplored.  


“That’s enough!” Sherlock growled low. He’d had enough of this. John was his, not Moriarty’s and how did the madman survive a bullet to the brain? He wanted to know these things but first he wanted Moriarty’s focus off of John and on him where it should be.  


John finally hearing Sherlock’s voice snapped him back to reality and to his horror he realized Moriarty was kissing him passionately. He had to make this stop. So with all his might he bit down on the madman’s tongue forcing Moriarty to retreat back. However, the madman was smiling with blood stained teeth. Another shiver ran through John with the look that Moriarty was giving him.  


Finally, Moriarty turned back to Sherlock. “You know I never realized how much of a fighter your pet is or how delicious he tastes. I might just keep him.”  


“It’s not him you want, it’s me. Just let him go,” Sherlock said. He didn’t sound threatening this time, more like desperate. He didn’t want anything to happen to John. Why in the hell was Moriarty so focused on John?  


Moriarty walked over to Sherlock and said in a sing-song tone, "I did warn you, Sherlock but did you listen?" He paused, a manic grin on his face. "I'll burn the heart out of you."  


Sherlock’s eyes grew wide at realizing what Moriarty’s intent was this time around. “No,” he murmured.  


“Yes,” Moriarty replied happily. “But, before I leave and take sweet little Johnny with me, I’m sure you’re just dying to know.” He paused with giggle. “No pun intended.”  


Of course Sherlock wanted to know because there was no logical way that Moriarty could have survived a bullet to the brain. No way in hell. So, how did he do it? However, John’s life was on the line here. He didn’t want his best friend to be taken from him because John would be at the mercy of this psychopath…again. No, he couldn’t let that happen. There had to be another way.  


“Tick tock goes the clock, Sherlock,” Moriarty said impatiently.  


Sherlock looked from Moriarty to John. John still looked rather shocked from what happened a few moments ago but his composure was still somewhat in check. He looked at Sherlock and he could see what Sherlock was asking of him. So, John nodded because he too wanted to know how the madman was still alive even though Sherlock announced himself that the criminal was dead.  


Sherlock turned his gaze back to Moriarty and asked, “How did you survive?”  


Moriarty smiled deviously. “Oh, normally I don’t like to kiss and tell but I guess I might just this once.” Suddenly Moriarty’s face began to transform. It was something out of a horror movie. His eyes went sold black, his brow furrowed and his teeth began to grow into sharp points. “And I can assure you, Sherlock, this is no magic trick.”  


Sherlock stared in disbelief. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be real and yet Moriarty stood before him with a manic smirk on his face.  


Moriarty moved to stand behind Sherlock then and purred, “Look at him, Sherlock.”  


Sherlock took a deep breath before turning his gaze to John’s. John was staring straight ahead like a soldier. Sherlock’s brow furrowed wondering why John wasn’t looking at him.  


“Untie him,” Moriarty demanded. One of his goons rushed over and cut John free but still he made no indication of movement. “Stand up, Johnny boy,” Moriarty commanded of the doctor. To Sherlock’s horror and slight fascination, John stood. “That’s a good little doggie. Now, come to me, pet.” John did as he was told and began to walk over to Moriarty. He stopped in front of Sherlock but his gaze was unfocused. Moriarty smiled big as he walked around behind John. The criminal wrapped his arms around John’s waist while his chin rested on the doctor’s good shoulder. “What do you think, Sherlock? Do you like my compliant little toy soldier?”  


“This is impossible. It just can’t be real,” Sherlock said, closing his eyes. He had to be dreaming. None of it made any since. This was out of a grim fairy-tale.  


“Oh, but you know that’s not quite true, Sherly,” Moriarty mused. “I’m very much real and I can’t tell you how excited I am to take your pet with me. Mmm, we are going to have so much fun together.”  


Sherlock’s eyes snapped open with panic. “No, you can’t. Take me instead. You can do whatever you want to me. I don’t care. Please, just let John go.”  


Moriarty chuckled darkly. “Poor helpless Sherlock, he just can’t grasp that he can’t stop what I’m going to do to you,” he said into John’s ear. “Daddy’s going to relish in your screams and maybe you will even learn to love it. What do you think, pet?”  


For only a second John was allowed to speak. “Go to hell,” John snarled low.  


Moriarty giggled and said, “You first, darling.” Moriarty was leaning in, his breathing ghosting over John’s neck causing goose bumps on John’s arms. “Look at him, love.”  


John’s eyes met Sherlock’s and too John’s surprise a tear ran down Sherlock’s cheek. “I’m sorry, John.”  


John wanted to reassure Sherlock that everything would be alright. That he would be fine but he knew it would be a lie. This was something beyond both of them and if he was going to die this would be his last chance to say how he felt. “Sherlock, I want you to know that I lov…”  


Just then there was an explosion that sent them fling to the ground.  


Sherlock was on his side and still tied to the chair. He felt someone trying to untie him. “John?”  


“I’m here, Sherlock. I’ve got you,” John reassured. John got Sherlock free and was helping him to his feet when Moriarty grabbed hold of the doctor and began to drag him toward the exit.  


“John!” Sherlock shouted. He made it to his feet but his vision blurred from the lack of oxygen in the fiery blaze of the burning warehouse. “No, John!” Sherlock’s eyes felt heavy in the black thick smoke. “John,” he whispered, falling to his knees. “I’m sorry.” Sherlock fell onto his back unable to gather the strength to make it out. He was feeling that all hope was lost when he saw a man in a trench coat looming over him and before Sherlock could ask the man who he was, the detective’s eyes fluttered closed into a black abyss of imagines of John at Moriarty’s mercy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter.

The smell of chlorine feels Sherlock’s senses; the light illuminating from under the water gives the room an eeriness of dark shadows that feels the emptiness of where he stood. Moriarty stands with John pressed to his body a few feet away from him. There is a wicked smile on the madman’s face. “I warned you, Sherlock, but you never listen!” Moriarty smirks.  


“Let him go,” Sherlock hears himself say.  


“Or what? It’s not like you can stop me.” Moriarty licks John’s neck forcing a shudder to run through John.  


“Sherlock, run!” John shouts but Sherlock doesn’t move.  


“John, no!” Sherlock takes a step forward but stops when Moriarty’s face transforms into a monster that only were meant to be of what nightmares were made of.  


“Johnny boy is mine!” Moriarty shouts with glee before he bites into John’s neck.  


John’s eyes widen with panic and fear. He weakly reaches out a hand towards Sherlock, “Sherlock…”  
Sherlock tries to move but he is frozen in place. He can only watch helplessly as Moriarty pulls back and laughs, his mouth stained with John’s blood. Sherlock closes his eyes and whispers, “I’m sorry, John. Please forgive me.”  
Suddenly Sherlock hears another sound from behind him. He turns to see a man in a trench coat staring at him. Sherlock remembers seeing this man but he can’t remember from where.  
The man takes a step toward him and says roughly, “This is only a dream. You need to wake up.” 

That’s all it took for Sherlock to open his eyes to see a group of people looming over him that he didn’t know. Panic set in so he jumped to his feet but regretted it fast. He grabbed onto the sides of his head from the pain and the ringing still in his ears. Looking around him Sherlock quickly took in his surroundings and filed away everything he saw. He was in a rundown looking hotel room. Why in the hell was he here?  


“Whoa there, buddy,” Dean huffed.  


“Yeah take it easy, man,” Sam murmured.  


Sherlock turned to the owners of the two voices and he frowned. They were two men, one was a few inches taller than himself with shoulder length hair and the other was about an inch taller with short hair. Both looked like they’d seen battle but neither held themselves like a soldier. However, Sherlock did see they had guns, knives, and was that a container of salt? It all was sitting over on a far table along with a few open beers bottles and his cell phone. Not to mention there was a mousy redhead typing away on her laptop, steeling glances of Sherlock out of the corner of her eye. Sherlock started to walk over toward the table to retrieve his phone but the man with the shorter hair step into his path. “Get out of my way,” Sherlock spat angrily.  


“Not until you tell me what you were doing in that warehouse…”  


“Dean…” Dean snapped his gaze to Castiel who was standing behind Sherlock. “Let him pass.”  


“Cas, we don’t even know if we can trust him,” Dean hissed.  


“We can trust him,” Charlie interjected softly. She turned her laptop around to show that the webpage was of John Watson’s blog. There was a picture of Sherlock and John standing side by side. “He’s Sherlock Holmes,” Charlie said excitedly.  


Dean and Sam exchanged a glance of shock before turning to look at Sherlock.  


“Oh, you have got to be kidding me, really?” Dean asked surprisingly.  


“Wow, I can’t even…” Sam stared at Sherlock with pure fascination.  


Sherlock began to become irritated. “Look, just give my phone and I’ll be on my way.”  


Dean crossed his arms over his chest and huffed, “Not until you tell us why you were in that warehouse.”  


Sherlock could see he wasn’t getting anywhere with this lot and why were they looking at him so strangely? It was making him even more irate because with each passing tick of the clock John was at Moriarty’s mercy. “John…” Sherlock whispered. The memory flooded back into his mind. Moriarty’s face transforming into a monster, then that monster taking control over John, and then John being taking by that monster, it was too much for Sherlock. He spun on his heel and headed for the door but Castiel was blocking his path now. “Get out of my way,” Sherlock growled.  


Castiel tilted his head, his brow furrowed as his gazed locked with Sherlock’s. “We can help you get him back.”  


Sherlock narrowed his eyes. “How? You don’t even know what happened.”  


“Yes, I do. I was in your mind. I saw what you saw and we can help you stop him,” Castiel explained.  


Sherlock didn’t know what to think. There were so many things he wanted to ask but none of it really mattered. All he wanted to do was to get John back and figure out how to stop Moriarty. However, he didn’t know how. He knew nothing of vampires because he was a man of science. Christ, it sounded so crazy no matter how true it was. “Who are you?”  


“My name is Castiel,” Castiel said softly before he turned and pointed at Dean. “That’s Dean and that’s Sam.” Castiel turned back to Sherlock. “They are Hunters and can help you take him out.”  


Sherlock stared at the pair and could deduce many things already about them. However, this wasn’t the time nor the place to go into that. He had to get to John. “Fine but we do this my way or not at all. I need to go back to my flat before we go back to the crime scene.”  


Castiel nodded his head, “Far enough.”  


“Cas, you can’t be serious,” Dean snapped.  


Castiel walked past Sherlock until he was standing in front of Dean. He leaned in and whispered, “What I saw in his dream will lead us to the alpha. We need to stay with him otherwise we will lose our opportunity.”  


Dean didn’t like the sound of that but it wasn’t like they had much of a choice. “Alright, fine.” He pointed at Sherlock and hissed, “We do this your way…for now.”  


Sherlock rolled his eyes. How he hated the narrow minded of other brains that were less intelligent then himself. At least John tried to keep up with him on some level even though his brain was just as small. Sherlock shook his head at that. John was a lot smarter than Sherlock gave him credit for. He could even be brilliant at times though Sherlock never spoke the words out loud. Maybe he should. After all John was everything to him. _I’d be lost without my blogger._ Just then Sherlock turned to see the mousy little redhead smiling up at him. Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her.  


Charlie gripped her laptop to her chest and was staring up at Sherlock with a smile on her face. “Is it true you can tell someone’s life story just by looking at them?”  


_Don’t be a show off, Sherlock._ Sherlock heard John’s voice warn in his mind. But, the girl did ask. So, it was an open invitation, wasn’t it? Before he spoke, Sherlock took a moment to study the redhead before he let his deductions fly. “You’re a bookworm or nerd, obviously but you’re also highly intelligent then most. Yet you do not have a place of your own possibly due to a childhood tragedy. That also might be why your lifestyle has you on the run since being one of the top most wanted computer hackers around, the law doesn’t take to kindly to that. Which brings these gents into your life that I’m sure have made you unwillingly see and do some things that would make any normal person’s stomach turn. Oh, and I think it’s also reasonable to say that you have a mutual friendship seeing that you’re gay.”  


Charlie’s mouth dropped and her eye bright with wonder. “That…was…awesome.”  


Sherlock’s eyebrows rose with surprise. He felt the same warm feeling in his chest just like he had when John first complemented him on his power of observation and deductive abilities. “Uh, thank you Miss.…well, I know it will be an alias but…”  


“Charlie Bradbury but you can call me whatever you like,” Charlie cooed as she kept smiling and staring up at Sherlock with a goofy look on her face.  


Dean, Sam, and Castiel shared an awkward glance before Dean huffed, “Unbelievable.”  


“Well,” Sam said, clearing his throat. “I think we need to get moving.”  


“Yes, right,” Charlie said, moving a strain of hair behind her ear. “I’ll be out in the car.” Charlie moved quickly passed Sherlock at an embracing pace and headed out the door, closing it behind her.  


Sherlock watched her go before he turned back to the other three in the room.  


“Do you always have that kind of effect on people?” Dean asked.  


“Unfortunately, yes,” Sherlock replied. “People either like me or hate me but the second is mostly what it comes down too. It seems some cannot handle their lives being laid out before them by someone they don’t really know. However, people don’t understand that it’s not me they are angry with but more themselves.”  


“How so?” Sam asked curiously. “You break them apart a piece at a time and relieve their darkest of secrets. Do you not care about how they would feel about that?”  


Sherlock walked over and stood before Sam. Sam looked from him to Dean and back again nervously until Sherlock said, “Everyone has secrets and as for caring, there is no advantage for ones feelings to cloud one’s mind when trying to stop a madman from causing so much destruction.”  


“Well, it might not work to your advantage but it can be one hell of a motivator,” Dean spat as he grabbed his duffle and headed out the door.  


Sam walked over to the table and picked up Sherlock’s phone. Before he handed it Sherlock Sam said, “Look, all we want to do is to help. That’s what we do. Please understand that.”  


Sherlock was silent for a moment. He could see the concern on Sam’s face. In some ways he remembered him of John. “I understand you and your brother have been through a lot. Only having each other to relay on, I get it.”  


“How did you…”  


Sherlock held up his hand to silence Sam so he could continue to speak. “The life you live is a thin line between knowing what is the right thing to do and actually doing the right thing. Something I often lack.” He wanted to add but I am better when John is with me because he points that out, though he didn’t. They were wasting time, time that could be more to finding John as supposed to just standing here. “My phone.”  


“Uh, right,” Sam stammered, handing over Sherlock’s phone. “We should probably go.”  


When they were outside Sherlock started to hail a cab when until Dean pulled up in front of them in a Chevy Impala. Sherlock quirked an eyebrow at the car and grumbled, “I’d rather hail a cab.”  


Dean, who looked angry and hurt, spat, “This is my baby. She will get us where we need to go.”  


Sherlock didn’t want to get in but if he was to get John back then he had to stay with these Americans. “Alright, fine.” They walked around to the passenger side and Sam opened the door for Sherlock. Sherlock did his best to slip into the back seat between Castiel and Charlie. It was a tight fit for his long legs but he would mange.  


Dean looked in his rear view mirror and asked sarcastically in what he considered his best English accent he could muster, “Where to govna?” He laughed but no one else was laughing. Sam was shaking his head as to say that was in bad taste, Dean looked back into his mirror he saw an irate Sherlock staring back at him. “Wow, it was joke.”  


“One I do not take to kindly of,” Sherlock hissed. “You know there was a time I threw an American out of my two story flat window. How many times still waits to be unseen.”  


Dean’s eyebrows raised and his mouth dropped slightly. Sam couldn’t help a small snicker at that. Dean punched Sam in the shoulder before he huffed, “I need an address.”  


“221B Baker Street,” Sherlock smirked. He was satisfied with irritating the older brother. It seemed he had a knack for it.  


Dean put the car into drive and took off like a bullet down the street wanting to get this mission over as quickly as possible. They needed the alpha’s blood and the sooner they got it the sooner they could go home.  


Sherlock opened his phone and began to type furiously. He was sending a message to all that needed to be warned.  


_Moriarty lives and he has John. My flat in ten. – SH_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you liked this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had no idea where this chapter was going at first but I must say I like where it went and where it will go. The image in my head is wonderful and I can't wait to write it. Hope you enjoy.

"Johnny boy, wake up."  


John was lost within his dreams when he heard the voice calling out to him. Slowly he started regained consciousness to the point there was a ringing in his ears with a small dull ache in his head and neck. He tried to move a hand to his head but quickly realized he was standing up right with his arms bound and suspended above his head. What in the hell happened? The last thing John recalled was helping Sherlock by untying him and then Moriarty grabbed him and dragged him out of a burning building. _Shit,_ John thought to himself. Moriarty was alive.  


“Come on, Johnny, times a wasting. I have so much fun planned for us.”  


John didn’t want to open his eyes because he didn’t want to see that psychotic grin or those wild eyes gazing upon him. He wanted nothing to do with the man. _No, not a man._ John corrected in his mind. The man they thought was a man was not a man at all but a true mythical creature that walks the earth. John wondered how old Moriarty really was.  


“Johnny, you know how I get when I’m bored.”  


John shuddered. It was a chilling thought because people died when this psychopath got bored. As much as the doctor disliked it he was going to have to face the monster. Taking a deep breath, John opened his eyes only to find that was a single light surrounding him. It made him feel even more afraid since the rest of the room was dark because he had no idea where Moriarty was.  


“Ah, there you are. Hello, pet. Glad to see you finally decided to join the land of the…well I’d say living but I’m afraid that wouldn’t be entirely accurate.” Moriarty giggled.  


A shot of anger ran through John and even though he didn’t know where Moriarty was it still didn’t stop him as he hissed out, “I suppose not, seeing as you are a blood sucking parasite.”  


Moriarty made a tsk tsk sound. “Do you think it wise to antagonize a creature that could kill you slowly while being completely unharmed?” Moriarty asked, stepping into view. “Or who could make you live forever? Frankly I like the second opinion best. I’d get to play with you for all eternity.”  


“That won’t ever happen, you freak,” John spat venomously. John knew it was the wrong thing to say. Never in a million years would he say it to Sherlock but he knew deep down Sherlock was nothing like Moriarty. Sherlock cared about people even if he pretended he didn’t at times. Moriarty was a monster and this just proved it to be true. So, John had no qualms to keep the monster busy long enough so Sherlock would be able to find him. Then the thought struck him of what could Sherlock do? He wouldn’t be able to stop Moriarty this time. They had no idea how to kill a vampire other than what the movies John watched but something about Moriarty was different. Maybe it was best if Sherlock never found him.  


Moriarty stepped closer now and moved his hands across John’s jumper. “You should be nicer to me, Johnny. I could make this painful for you if I so wished it. To hear your lovely screams would be music to my ears.”  


John tensed with Moriarty’s hand on his chest. He didn’t want the creature to touch him. “If you’re going to torture me then do so but for the love of god stop talking!”  


That made Moriarty smile. “Alright, pet, if that is what you wish.” Moriarty placed both hands on John’s chest and purred, “I wonder what’s under here.” Moriarty ripped away John’s jumper and under shirt with ease as John was desperately pulling at his restraints trying to free himself. But, it was no use. Moriarty was now tracing his cold fingers over John’s bare chest. “Mmmm, you are so lovely, pet. Why do you hide behind so much clothing when you have so much to offer?”  


“Piss off,” John growled.  


“Oh, you can try to wear that bravado shield for as long as you like, pet but I know the truth.” Moriarty leaned forward to rest his ear against John’s chest. “I can hear your heart beat,” he said as he moved so now his lips were next to John’s ear. “If you don’t calm yourself it might just break through your chest.”  


John shivered with Moriarty’s lips being so close to his neck. Why couldn’t the psychopath understand that being so close to him wouldn’t make him any less calm?  


Moriarty leaned back and began to run his finger nails along John’s bare chest. It was only hard enough that his nails left angry red lines in their wake. “Did you know it was extremely difficult for me when I had you alone at the pool, how I wanted to take you then but I knew it wasn’t time yet to reveal my true form?”  


John hissed at the sensation of Moriarty’s nails biting into his skin. He twisted even though he knew it was futile but he hated being so vulnerable.  


“You looked so pretty all wrapped up in that Semtex vest, like a present waiting to be opened. You also surprised me when you were willing to die for your master, such a loyal little doggie.”  


“Why don’t you remove my binds so I can show you how far I’m willing to go,” John snarled. Of course John was afraid. He was bloody well terrified but he would stop at nothing to keep Sherlock safe. That amazing, crazed, nutter of a man was his best friend. John would rather die and take Moriarty with him then to see Sherlock die again. Sherlock was everything to him.  


“Oh, doggie has so much bark and bite but can he obey?” Moriarty purred. His fingers trailed down toward John’s jeans. He began to slowly unbutton them. “Be a good little doggie and I might just might let you live.”  


Up until that point John was trying to ignore the fact of what Moriarty’s true intensions were for him this time around. He was truly hoping Moriarty just wanted to torture him but when he felt his jeans being unbuttoned a new source of panic began to fill him. “No,” John whispered weakly. He didn’t want this. Not from this madman. “I – I thought you didn’t g – get your hands dirty,” John stammered.  


Moriarty leaned forward and licked John’s neck forcing the doctor to jump. “Like I told Sherly back at the pool, I’ll burn the heart out of you and you little doggie are his heart. I didn’t realize it until he jumped off the roof. Did he tell you why he jumped?”  


John’s left hand began to shake slightly. Of course Sherlock didn’t tell him because John never asked. He was just thankful to have his friend back in his life.  


Moriarty could see John’s face was conflicted. A smile stretched across his face. “I told him he had to jump or three of his loyal pets were going to die.”  


John’s eyes grew wide at the statement. It hit him like a ton of bricks. Sherlock didn’t have a choice. He had to jump or he was going to die. Then his brow furrowed wondering who the other two lives were that Moriarty had threatened.  


Moriarty could read John’s face like a book. “DI Lestrade and your landlady were the other two I targeted,” Moriarty mused. “The thing is Sherlock only spoke your name. He was mostly concerned with you just like back at the pool.” Moriarty paused for a moment. Studying John’s face before he asked, “What is it about you that has captivated him so?” Moriarty trailed his fingers up John’s neck forcing the doctor to shiver. “I think I’m starting to see the appeal.”  


John wanted to fight and to scream at the madman. Not only was he going to have John killed but Greg and Mrs. Hudson, too. Moriarty was going to take everyone from Sherlock unless the detective jumped. At that moment John find his new source of anger and a will to fight this man until his very last breath. If he was going to die he was going to go out like the soldier he was. “You bastard,” John snarled.  


Moriarty chuckled. “I know, little doggie, I know. I’m so evil, blah, blah, blah…Just think of it this way, pet, you’re just trading new masters this time around. I did tell Sherlock I was going to get me a live in one so I guess that’s you. Isn’t it great! We’ll have so much fun together. Just you wait, pet.” Moriarty was unzipping John’s jeans when the door suddenly opened forcing a low growl out of him.  


“I’m sorry sir but he is requesting an audience with you,” Sebastian murmured.  


“Why in the hell is he here now?” Moriarty growled.  


A man in a dark black suit walked in and in a deep raspy voice huffed, “Because you quite frankly fucked up, Jimmy. At what point did I tell you that you could go against our deal?”  


Moriarty glared at the man. “This has nothing to do with our deal, Crowley.”  


“It has everything to do with it, you twit,” Crowley spat. “Now, that detective fellow knows your alive and has decided to work with the bloody Winchesters! And do you want to know why?” Crowley points at John and shouts angrily, “Because you have him.”  


“Look, I….”  


Crowley silenced Moriarty by pushing him up against the wall without touching him. John’s eyes grow wide not knowing what to think. “You let one of your pets out of his cage but you forget that it brought out more attention than needed. Now, the Winchesters are here looking to kill the alpha because one of your pets couldn’t keep their bloody mouth shut.”  


“I have a plan,” Moriarty hissed.  


“Oh, really? Do enlighten me then.”  


“I’m going to turn him,” Moriarty huffed, gesturing towards John.  


“That’s very good and all but what’s the point of that?” Crowley asked flatly.  


“He is a good man. As good as they come and he is the heart of Sherlock Holmes. If I destroy the heart I destroy the man,” Moriarty explained.  


Crowley turned his attention to John. He looked into those dark blue eyes and saw something there. Something he hadn’t seen before. It was almost too overwhelming but Crowley found himself stepping closer to John, curiosity taking hold. After a moment of silence Crowley lifted a hand to John's chest. The doctor was physically fit enough to the point when his muscles tensed under the foreign touch, Crowley smiled wickedly.  


John couldn't understand why the man's touch felt wrong, strange, more so then Moriarty's touch. He tried twisting away but he had nowhere to go. Suddenly the touch began to burn like fire. John was doing his best to keep from screaming because he didn't want to give them the satisfaction. However, the longer the man rested his hand on John's chest the worse the pain intensified.  


It pleased Crowley that the doctor was lasting longer then even Castiel. He was enjoying watching John struggle to keep control. Finally John couldn't take much more and he began to scream forcing a primal growl out of Crowley. The King of Hell removed his hand and smiled, watching John as he tried to gain control over himself once more.  


Crowley turned to Moriarty and purred, "I can see why you like him."  


"He is perfect," Moriarty mused. He'd seen Crowley torture before with his little hot flash trick but no one lasted long. Not like Johnny. "I long to test his limits. See how much he can take," Moriarty explained.  


"I'd love to watch you work maybe even join you," Crowley replied.  


"You know I can hear you," John spat bitterly, lifting his gaze towards the madmen in the room. "Yeah, right here within ear shot. Listening to every bullshit word."  


Crowley and Moriarty shared a knowing glance before turning their full attention to John. Both men began to walk around John like predators about to jump their prey.  


"Ever the soldier," Moriarty mocked, "But every man has a breaking point, Johnny. Even you."  


John felt terrified with both men circling him. Especially when they disappeared behind him and out of his line of vision. It made him nervous not being able to see if they were going to strike him. Just then both stopped in front of him.  


"Tell me something, Johnny, do you think angels and demons exist?" Moriarty asked, studying John's face.  


John thought at first Moriarty finally had lost it but the gleam in the other man's eye told a different story. "Well, if you being a vampire is for real then I'd say yes."  


Crowley takes a step closer to John and lets his eyes turn black. "Hello, darling."  


John's eyes grow wide out of shock. He doesn't know what to think or to even say. The only thing that truly crosses his mind was, _Oh Christ, Sherlock._  


Crowley's eyes turn back to normal as he reaching out to trail a finger over John's chest where he left a nasty red mark. "You know I think it'd be fun if we both took our time with you."  


Moriarty pushed Crowley back from John. "He belongs to me. Why don't you go play with your own pets the Winchesters," Moriarty huffed childishly.  


"Because you lead them straight to your arch-enemy you bloody idoit."  


Both men stopped and turned at the sound of John's laughter. "What is so damn funny?" Crowley snapped.  


"Oh, you two just seem so perfect for each other. I truly thought Moriarty wouldn't find someone. Well, I was wrong," John said sarcastically.  


Moriarty stepped up to John and for a moment John thought the man was going to hit him. So it came as a totally surprise to him when Moriarty grabbed hold of the back of his head and crushing his lips to John's. John tried to pull back but Moriarty's hold was firm so he would need to ride it out. Suddenly John felt a body being pressed up against his back, arms being wrapped around his waist and lips on his neck. It set a shiver down John's spine and his lips to part slightly giving Moriarty access to push his tongue into John's mouth.  


It was almost to overwhelming for John. Sure he'd been with a few men before in his early Amy days but that was just a primal need. He also had an attraction to Sherlock but he dare never say that out loud. But, this. What the hell was this and why was he starting to feel aroused? The doctor side took hold and he began to tell himself it was only the bodies reaction to the situation he was in. It wasn't as though he was enjoying the fact of Moriarty's tongue exploring his mouth while running his fingers through his short blonde hair and grinding his hard on up against John's thigh. Or that the other man Crowley, who was grinding up against his arse with a hard on while placing gentle kisses over his left shoulder and his hands were kneading the front of John's jeans. What the fuck was happening?  


John had no idea how much time past before both men pulled back. Their pupils blown wide with lust.  


"I think we should take this to a more comfortable place, don't you?" Crowley asked Moriarty.  


"I couldn't agree with you more," Moriarty replied foundly.  


John didn't like where this was going. He didn't want to be the center focus of two psychopathic demons. "I don't want..."  


John began to say but Moriarty placed a finger over John's lips. "Shhh, little doggie. I promise you'll crave for more. Just you wait, love."  


Both men held onto John and within a blink of an eye were gone, leaving the chains swinging of their once captive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Hope you liked this chapter. I can't wait to write the next part of this. It will be amazing or at least I hope it will. Poor John. So conflicted. Thanks for reading. ^_^
> 
> Always like feedback and likes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

Mycroft was sitting in Sherlock’s chair and Lestrade was standing beside him when Sherlock walked in to the sitting with his new entourage following close behind. Sherlock looked like hell. He was bruised with dry blood on his face and hands from deep cuts probably from the explosion. 

“Christ, Sherlock are you alright?” Lestrade asked concernedly. 

“I’m fine, Lestrade,” Sherlock said as he walked over to sit in John’s chair. His gaze locked with Mycroft who was watching his brother carefully. 

“Sure you are. Aside from the fact that we saved your ass from being blown from kingdom come,” Dean huffed. 

“And who are you again?” Lestrade asked bitterly. 

“They’re with me, Lestrade,” Sherlock replied. 

“Now you listen to me, Sherlock Holmes…” 

“That’s enough, Gregory,” Mycroft interrupted him. Lestrade crossed his arms but said nothing else. 

Sherlock looked over this shoulder at the four and said, “You can take a sit.” 

Charlie happily walked over to the table by the window and placed her laptop down on the table while Dean and Sam sat down on the couch. Castiel remained standing by the door so he could keep an eye on everything in the room.

After a moment Mycroft looked at his brother and stated calmly, “Tell me what you know.” 

If there was one thing Sherlock hated the most it was contacting his brother for help but this was about John. Mycroft wouldn’t dance around with word play like they usually did since Moriarty was involved. “It seems that in John’s infamous wisdom he was correct on his assumption of who’s been behind these murders.” 

“And?” Lestrade asked, trying to obtain the information faster. 

“Vampires,” came a female voice from the doorway. All turned their gaze but Sherlock to see Irene Alder wearing a black silk blouse with tight blue jeans and black pumps. She smiled as she purred, “Hello, darlings.” 

Mycroft’s face showed no emotions to anyone who didn’t know him. However, Sherlock could see that his brother was livid at him for not informing him that Irene was alive. 

“Irene?” Castiel asked curiously. 

Irene turned to the man and smiled wickedly. “Castiel? As I live and breathe. Never thought I’d run into you again. How’ve you been, cutie?” 

“Wait, you two know each other?” Sam asked confusingly. 

“But, of course we do. He’s a tiger in the sack. Never met anyone like him,” Irene purred, walking over to Castiel. She placed a hand on his chest. “How’s the scar? Hope I didn’t hurt you to badly, love.” 

Castiel was blushing and when he met Dean’s gaze he stepped away from Irene. She looked at where his gaze landed and giggled. “Oh, it seems I’ve been replaced.” 

“It’s not like that,” Castiel spat out quickly. 

“Awe, I thought I meant more to you than that, blue eyes,” Irene pouted. “I know I enjoyed it.” 

Dean slapped his forehead. “Look, sweetheart, who the hell are you?” 

“Are you kidding me? She is the only woman that ever out witted Sherlock Holmes and she is also a dominatrix,” Charlie said excitedly. All eyes turned to Charlie who quickly regretted speaking out loud. 

Irene slowly walked over to Charlie and caressed the redhead’s cheek. “Who are you, my lovely girl?” 

Charlie began to giggle, “I’m…uh…I’m…” 

“She is off limits,” Dean snapped, grabbing hold of Irene’s hand and pulling her away from Charlie. 

Irene smirked. “Whoa, easy there, tough guy, she’s a big girl. I think she could make that decision for herself.” 

“Irene…” Sherlock warned. 

“What? We’re only having a discussion,” Irene replied, keeping her gaze on Dean. “Weren’t we, big guy?”

Sherlock stood and in two long strides was standing before Irene forcing Dean to step back. “Do remember why you’re here. Moriarty is alive and took John. My mind is still trying to wrap my head around what I believe is real and what is real. This isn’t some game. I’m done playing with him.” 

“But, he isn’t done with you,” Lestrade interjected. “He took John to hurt you, Sherlock. We all know that.” 

Sherlock turned away and walked over to stand in front of the skull that sat on the mantel above the fireplace. The gears in Sherlock’s mind were whirling. He was trying to think but there were too many people in the room, too much noise. Suddenly Sherlock shouted, “Everyone shut up!” 

Everyone froze. Sherlock was leaning his head against the fireplace when Mycroft moved to stand beside him. “Clear your mind,” Mycroft said softly. 

“Easier said than done, Mycroft,” Sherlock snarled. 

Mycroft lifted his hand and placed it on Sherlock’s shoulder. “Remember what mother told you, Sherlock, after Red Beard died?” 

Sherlock did. She had told him that Red Beard went to live out the rest of his life on a farm but Sherlock knew better. Death wasn’t a stranger to him. He’d been to many crime scenes without their parent’s knowledge but Mycroft knew. Inspector Rollin, at the time, was a good man who Mycroft talked into keeping an eye on Sherlock when there was another dead body involved. Sherlock deduced how they died but being so young no one listened.  
Not even when he knew for sure how Carl Power died. It frustrated him. “What’s the point of this, Mycroft?” Sherlock grumbled. 

“She was trying to make you feel better by telling you a lie because she cared,” Mycroft explained. 

Sherlock turned his attention to his brother. “Caring is a chemical defeat found on the losing side,” Sherlock snapped. 

Mycroft ignored his brother’s outburst. “Remember what I told you?” Mycroft turned and picked up Sherlock’s violin. He walked it over to Sherlock and held it out for him to take. “Let him hear you.” 

Sherlock looked from his brother’s face down toward his violin. He didn’t believe in God or an afterlife but he was in pain and playing seemed to help. So, taking it from Mycroft, he placed his violin between his shoulder and chin, grabbing onto his bow he lifted it to the strings and began to play. It sounded upbeat when he first began to play but then it began to sound sad before the tempo picked back up again. After a few more cords it turned sad again before he finished. When he lowered his bow all eyes were on him. They looked fascinated and Sherlock for once couldn’t understand why. 

“That was heavenly” Charlie said fondly, after a few moments of silence. 

“I don’t know about heavenly but it was very good,” Castiel retorted. 

“Look now that you’re done playing around, can we get on with this?” Dean huffed. 

Sherlock felt like Mycroft was right. Playing did help. He got a chance to really think and he was willing to listen to what the brother’s had to say. Sherlock walked over and placed his violin back in its case before he turned his attention back to Dean. “Tell me about vampires.” 

Lestrade’s brow furrowed as he asked, “Wait, what? You were serious about that?” 

“Of course, Inspector, Moriarty is alive because he’s a vampire,” Sherlock explained. “Do try to keep up.” 

“Sherlock, that’s even a little farfetched for you,” Mycroft said evenly. 

“Oh, there are more out there then just vampires, right Sammy?” Dean spat out. 

“Uh right, Dean,” Sam replied, looking up from his phone. He was trying to do some research in hopes that more killings had been taking place for them to find the alpha sooner but it was like they disappeared. “All of it exists.” 

“All of what exists?” Lestrade asked. He felt like a protective father over Sherlock and John. He cared about them both deeply so listening to this madness didn’t make much sense. No matter what happened with the H.O.U.N.D. nothing like that could be real, right? 

“Cas, do you think you could heal him?” Sam asked, gesturing toward Sherlock.

“Right,” Castiel said, smiling. He walked over to Sherlock and said, “This won’t hurt.” He placed his fingers on Sherlock’s forehead and within a matter of seconds Sherlock was healed of all cuts and bruises. 

Sherlock rushed over to look in the mirror above the fireplace. “Impossible,” he whispered. 

“Not impossible,” Sam said, standing to his feet. “You saw what Moriarty was so you know this must be real too.” 

Sherlock turned and looked at Castiel. “What are you then?” 

Castiel hesitated and looked to Dean who gave him a nod. He looked back at Sherlock and said, “I’m an angel of the Lord. Well, sort of.” 

“An angel? Bloody hell, Sherlock, this is crazy,” Lestrade huffed. 

“It might sound crazy, Inspector, but it’s the truth,” Irene said calmly. 

“So, what makes them then?” Lestrade snapped, pointing at Dean and Sam. 

“We’re called Hunters,” Sam began to explain. “We hunt down and kill monsters.” 

“Oh, well that explains that.” Lestrade turned and looked at Mycroft who was still staring at Sherlock. Lestrade could see the concern in Mycroft’s eyes for his little brother. Being around the Holmes brothers he did pick up a few deductive skills or he’d like to think so. 

After a moment of silence Mycroft murmured, “What do you want me to do, Sherlock?” 

_I want John back,_ Sherlock thought but decided against speaking those words out loud. Instead he turned to the brothers and said, “We need a plan.” 

“Already working on it,” Sam announced while typing away on his phone. 

“We need rock salt and holy water,” Dean said as he stood. 

“In the fridge,” Sherlock muttered. 

“Seriously?” Dean replied, seeming skeptical. However, he did walk into the kitchen and the next thing anyone knew Dean was screaming and rushed back into the sitting room. “Th – There’s a head…in…in the…” 

Sherlock smirked. “It’s for an experiment.” 

Dean’s brow furrowed. “You keep a severed head in your fridge for experiments? Are you kidding me?” 

“Actually that’s normal,” Lestrade explained. 

“And you allow that?” Dean asked frazzled. 

“It was donated to me for an experiment,” Sherlock said irritatingly, rolling his eyes. 

“We’ve kept heads around before, Dean. What’s the difference?” Sam asked. 

“Not in the fridge where the food is. That’s just nasty,” Dean said, making a disgusted face. 

“Well, how else was I to keep it without it smelling up the flat? It’s the best place for it,” Sherlock muttered. 

“Uh yes, hello?” Charlie began, “We need to refocus back on finding Doctor Watson and destroying the alpha.”  
Sherlock snapped his attention toward Charlie. “What do you mean by alpha?”

Charlie realized by Dean’s and Sam’s faces that she made a mistake. They didn’t want to reveal what Moriarty was until after they found him. However, it was extremely difficult the last time they tried to kill an alpha so maybe the more they knew the better the odds of stopping the creature. 

Sam sighed. “We have reason to believe that Moriarty is an alpha vampire.” 

“Elaborate,” Sherlock demanded. 

“Meaning that he is one of the first vampires to walk the earth,” Sam replied. “They are a lot stronger and more powerful then someone who gets turned, they can telepathically communicate with other vampires and resistant to pain.”

Mycroft raised an eye brow. “Sounds like an unstoppable force.” 

Sam nodded. “They are rather difficult.” 

“But not impossible to kill,” Dean said half-heartily. 

“Have you ever killed an alpha before?” Lestrade asked curiously. 

Dean and Sam shared a glance before Sam replied, “We’ve come close but at the time we just needed the alpha's blood to stop another creature. He gave it to us willingly.” 

“How do you kill an alpha?” Sherlock irrupted. The only thing on his mind was John. Moriarty wanted to hurt him and in doing so was to hurt John. He would stop at nothing to get his blogger back home and to keep him safe. The time away gave him loads to think about and he realized how much he cared for John. It was nonsense. So many emotions were clouding his judgment but that is why he needed John back at his side. He kept him level headed and clear. What was it about John Watson that made him feel? 

“We have a colt that has special bullets to kill him or dead man’s blood,” Sam explained. 

Lestrade frowned. “What does that mean? Dead man’s blood?” 

“It means we tried chaining the son of a bitch down and pump the blood of a dead body into him,” Dean retorted. He looked to Sherlock and said, “It didn’t work as well as we hoped. He was just too powerful.” 

“We would need someone that could take him out with one shot,” Sam murmured. “Is anyone a crack shot?” 

All eyes turned to Sherlock. “Moriarty took my flat mate who is an ex-soldier.” 

Charlie gasped. “Your arch-enemy has John Watson?” 

Sherlock nodded. “We were following up on the strange murders and it came down to it that we were chasing down our lead suspect, literally. He disappeared inside a warehouse so I went ahead not recognizing it was a trap. When we came to Moriarty revealed himself and told me he was going to burn the heart out of me.” 

“What the hell does that mean?” Dean muttered. 

Mycroft stepped toward Sherlock. “He already tried that, Sherlock. He lost.” 

Sherlock met his brother’s gaze. “He was wrong and now he’s got John.” 

_“I’ll burn the heart out of you,” Moriarty hissed._  
_“I have been reliably informed that I don’t have one,” Sherlock replied softly._  
_Moriarty smirked. “But we both know that’s not quite true.”_

“How would we find him?” Sam asked, cutting through Sherlock’s thoughts. 

Just then Mrs. Huston walked into the room. “Sherlock dear, a package just arrived for you. Oh, I didn’t know we had guest.” 

Sherlock walked over and took the package from her hands and carelessly opened it to reveal a book that was entitled, “Grimm’s Fairy Tales.” This reminded him of what Moriarty had done with the case of the two missing children and wondered what this could possibly be about this time. There was a page that was booked marked so Sherlock opened it to the story entitled, “Faithful John.” (https://www.cs.cmu.edu/~spok/grimmtmp/005.txt) It took Sherlock only a moment to realize what it meant but when he did he felt all hope would be lost for his dear friend. 

“Sherlock?” Mycroft murmured. 

Sherlock turned and said, “We need to…” However before he could finish his sentence the place was stormed with vampires. They crashed through the windows and rushed up the stairs, crashing through the doorway. 

“Cas, now would be a good time to pop us out of here,” Dean said, holding out his knife. 

“Can’t. There are too many that I won’t be able to do it all at once,” Castiel replied regrettably. 

“Damn it, Cas,” Dean huffed. 

They were surrounded. 

Suddenly a man with blonde hair and dressed in camouflage pants, black t-shirt and combat boots walked into the flat. His gaze met Sherlock’s and smirked, “Moriarty wishes he could be here personally but he does send his regards. He’s just a little preoccupied training his new pet.” 

Sherlock’s hands balled into fists at his sides trying his best to keep his anger under control. His brain on the other hand began to pull data and realized he had seen this man before in different surveillance photos. Sherlock knew Moriarty had recruited a military man to help put the bombs together when they played their first game. This had to be him. Although with the mention of John, Sherlock was ready to end this conversation and the man before him. “Please inform your master that I’m coming for him and I will show no mercy.” 

The man smiled as he muttered, “If you survive he’ll fancy a swim. He hopes you will too.” 

“I’ll be there,” Sherlock spat venomously. 

“He’ll be pleased to hear that. Well, take care, Mr. Holmes.” The man turned and vanished back down the stairs. 

Sherlock heard the front door open and close. He so badly wanted to follow but there was no way he was getting through the army of vampires without a fight.

Castiel was about to follow him but they were clearly out numbered. He had to stay and fight. Dean and Sam through knifes to the others. It was going to be a hell of a fight.

“How do we kill them with these then?” Lestrade asked panicky. 

Mycroft lifted his umbrella. “Best way I’ve figure,” he said, twisting the handle and pulled to reveal a long silver sword hidden within. “Cut off its bloody head.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am happy I ended where I did on this chapter and I hope you enjoyed reading it. This took me a little time to work on but I am pleased with it. I don't say that often enough about my work. What do you think? 
> 
> Oh, and the link I posted is to the Grimm Fairy Tale story about Faithful John. I have an idea on how it will fit in. Hope you have an idea too.  
> https://www.cs.cmu.edu/~spok/grimmtmp/005.txt
> 
> More to come.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me a little time to do but I think it was well worth it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I had while writing it. 
> 
> Warning: So many feels.

When they reappeared, Moriarty and Crowley stepped away from John but watched the doctor warily because they couldn’t for whatever reason anticipate on what the good doctor’s next move might be. Finding he was somewhere else and unbound might result in them needing to take action to retrain him. 

Moriarty moved over by Crowley and whispered, “You’re taking a back seat to this. You do as I say or I’ll make it hellish for you.” 

Crowley smirked at him. “Anything you say, darling.” 

John’s eyes remained closed for a moment because he felt queasy and was trying his best to take long deep breaths. The last thing he wanted to do was to throw up in front of his captors. Finally feeling like the nausea sensation subside, John didn't know what he was supposed to expect. Not knowing where the other two men were made him slightly nervous. He knew he wasn’t in the same room at least. The temperature in the room was comfortable to him. Unlike the cold damp one he was chained in just moments ago. Also his feet felt as though he were standing on soft carpet. His brow furrowed in confusion. They didn’t even move to get where he was now so how did they get here? Taking a deep breath John opened his eyes and it came as complete surprise to fine the sight before him. Maybe he was expecting to be standing in a torture chamber perhaps or a maybe a dungeon. However, where ever he was taken he was looking through a large glass window to find it was night and the moon was full while casting a glow over a beautiful tropical water fall. There were trees as far as the eye could see which told John the house was high up on the side of a mountain top. It was the most breath taking thing he'd ever seen. Where the hell were they?

Moriarty walked up behind John and wrapped his arms around his waist while resting his chin on the doctor's good shoulder. "I decided it should be special for our first time, Johnny," he purred into John's ear. 

John shivered at Moriarty's cold touch. He had to admit the scenery was beautiful but he didn't want this. "Why?" Was all he could say even though he wanted to fight. He didn't understand fully of what Moriarty's plans were for him other than having him was hurting Sherlock. It was always about Sherlock. 

"Stop thinking about him,” Moriarty warned. “This isn’t about him. It’s about you, Johnny, because you're very special to me," Moriarty murmured. "I don't turn just anyone. However, I'd make an exception for you." He moved one of his hands up to John’s nipple and began to roll it between his index finger and thumb. John bit back a moan even though he felt terrified. Of course he did. The thought of being a vampire forever and at Moriarty’s mercy made him want to run. But, his curiosity grew over why Moriarty would rather have him over Sherlock. He wasn’t special. He wasn’t. It made no sense to him. John shook his head unable to wrap his thoughts around it. "But I'm a no body. Just ordinary and boring John Watson." 

Moriarty smirked, pitching a little harder and enjoying the tension in John’s body from trying to fight him off what it wanted and what John’s mind told him he wanted. It would come down to it both things were one in the same but John just didn’t know it yet. Moriarty would help him to see it though. He was exceptional at what he did. "That’s not true. Since the first moment I laid eyes on you, Johnny, I knew there was so much more to you underneath those hideous jumpers of yours. Come to find out I was right.” Moriarty lifted his other hand to John’s nipple and mocked his actions with kneading the doctor’s nipple between his fingers. “You crave danger, Johnny boy, just like a drug addict looking for their next fix. Who better then I to give you what you need?” 

John felt weak. For one, he was trying hard to ignore the sensation of Moriarty’s fingers playing with his nibbles. He wanted to stop the madman but he knew better. Moriarty was probably ten times stronger and faster than he was. There was nothing he could do. And for number two, he thought he was invisible, especially with Sherlock around. “I thought…no one noticed me.” 

“Well, I did,” Moriarty cooed. “You've captivated me in ways nobody else could." He began to suck on John’s neck forcing John to moan involuntarily. Moriarty smiled against his skin. “I want you, pet, and I know you want me.” 

Just then, Crowley moved so he was now standing in view of both men. He cleared his throat so both men looked at him as he asked, “Did we forget about me, precious?” 

John’s gaze landed on the man before him. He finally got the chance to look at the man and he seemed dashing enough. He wore a nice suit like Moriarty so he was a man of importance or at least liked to think he was. However, if he was here with Moriarty in the room then there was something defiantly between the pair. Although the fact remained that John had no clue who this man was and why he even wanted to join them. His brow furrowed while his lip pursed in a thin line as he mumbled, “I don’t even know you.” 

Crowley smiled devilishly as he reached out and batted one of Moriarty’s hands away from John’s nibble. He moved his lips close so his breath was ghosting over John’s nipple, causing it to remain hard. “Forgive me for not introducing myself. The names Crowley and I’m the King of Hell.” He flicked out his tongue and licked John’s nibble causing him to gasp. Crowley’s smile only grew as he purred, “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 

As much as John wanted to fight this, he felt himself growing hard. His body was making it rather difficult to refuse. Instead he forced his mind to shift tracks as he asked, “Doesn’t that make you Lucifer then?” 

Crowley’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “Hell no,” he spat out. “I am a King and besides that insufferable twit’s trapped in a cage. I’m the big man on campus now, sweetheart.” He licked John’s nibble again which was driving John mad. Not to mention what Moriarty was doing to him. John didn’t know if he was going to even survive this but something had to give. The only thing he could think of was he needed to keep them off balance, which meant that he needed to be unpredictable. “Now that we all know each other I think it’s time that we should…” Crowley began to say but was cut off when John suddenly grabbed Crowley’s suit jacket and pulled him up until their lips crushed together. Crowley’s eyes grew wide with shock and met Moriarty’s who looked even more surprised. After a moment, Crowley pulled back with a big smile on his face. “Well, that was unexpected.” 

As John pulled away from Crowley it dawned on him right then that he needed to give even if he didn’t want too. It was the only way. John shrugged as he said, “I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m not going to be leaving here anytime soon and if I do it’s not going to be alive. Now, I’m assuming you’re a demon and Moriarty’s a vampire, right? That makes me being the only human in this room with zero chance of escaping. Not to mention even if I did I have no idea where we are and it would cause me more harm than good at this point. So the way I figure it I have two options.” 

Moriarty and Crowley were staring at John with lust filled fascination. They loved listening to him speak. “Tell us, pet, what have you concluded?” Moriarty murmured. 

“It’s rather simple really. I either take my chances with you two or I die,” John explained bitterly. He’d rather not do either. What he wanted was to be with Sherlock because this was crazy. He wasn’t even for sure Sherlock was alright. The last thing he remembered was watching Sherlock fall to the ground of the burning warehouse. He wanted to know but if he went with whatever it was they wanted to do to him then maybe just maybe he’d get to see Sherlock again. 

“It’s possible, love, that you will see him again,” Moriarty purred into John’s ear. “However, not in the way you may hope.” Moriarty moved his hands down towards John’s jeans and slipped his hands inside. “Now, enough of this self loathing, pet, because I’m craving to fuck the life out of you.” With Moriarty's hands down John's jeans it was easy enough to push them down along with John's boxers down to his ankles, leaving John feeling vulnerable in ways he never knew he could. "I can't do everything, love." 

It took John a second to register what he was being asked. Finally he lifted his right foot so Moriarty could slip off his pant leg. Then he lifted his left foot, leaving John exposed to both men. 

“Mmmm, doesn’t he look delectable?” Crowley inquired. 

John felt the urge to cover himself with his hands if he thought it would do him a bit of good. But, with this lot it might only make them angrier to the point of making him suffer. At this point he wondered which he'd prefer and decided to not detour from his current mission for himself of giving into them. It would keep this as painless as possible if he did.

Moriarty tossed John's clothes carelessly across the room as he stood. He moved around so he was standing beside Crowley. While staring hungrily at the doctor he said, “Quite right.” His eyes darted over every inch of John, filing away every scar, every line, every dimple and anything else he could see until his gaze landed on John's bullet wound on his shoulder. He lifted his hand to touch it but John flinched back like he was about to be burned by the criminal’s touch. “Johnny, I’m not going to hurt you,” Moriarty said soothingly. 

“It’s just…no one’s ever touched it before or thought…” 

“Or thought it was as beautiful as I think it is,” Moriarty finished for him. “May I?” 

John felt conflicted but as he looked into Moriarty’s eyes it seemed like the criminal was being genuine so he nodded. Moriarty slowly reached out and began to lightly run his fingers over it. John studied the madman’s face. What he saw was Moriarty had the same excitable and fascinated look as Sherlock would get when he caught wind of an intriguing murder case. He often wished Sherlock would look at him like that. It made John shudder at the thought that Moriarty was the one standing before him and touching him like a lover would be, like he wanted Sherlock to be. 

Finally Moriarty’s gaze shifted to John’s and he smiled softly at him. He leaned forward and covered John’s lips with his own. To his delight John didn’t pull back from him. Instead John’s lips parted to let Moriarty’s tongue gain access once again. _What is it about you, Johnny?_ Moriarty wondered curiously. His thoughts began to calm as he was thinking about nothing but John’s warm body against his own. It was wonderful. 

John felt Moriarty’s tongue explore his mouth until he found his own tongue. They intertwined forcing a moan out of the master criminal. It made John feel even more conflicted. Why was Moriarty being like this towards him? What was it about him that made him scared and excited at the same time? _He’s a psychopath, John. He put a bomb on you and threatened to kill us both._ John heard Sherlock say within his mind. But, Sherlock showed no interest in him. Not like Moriarty was now. _He is only using you to get to me. He doesn’t care what happens to you. Stop being an idiot._ Sherlock snarled within John’s mind. After a few minutes John felt like he couldn’t breathe and pulled back trying to catch his breath. 

Moriarty smirked at him. “Oh, I forgot. You need to breathe.” 

John half smiled, trying to get Sherlock off of his mind as he replied, “I am only human.” 

Moriarty stepped closer to him, locking his gaze onto John’s as he murmured, “For now.” 

A shiver ran through John. He didn’t want to become a vampire. He liked being human. His gaze down casted to the floor, a million things racing through his head but the one that kept eating away at him was if Moriarty did turn him then what would that mean? Would he need to relay on Moriarty and if so would that mean he’d never be with Sherlock again? He hated the thought of that. 

“Jim darling, don’t you think it’s about time we should…” Crowley let his words trail off as he gestured towards the bed. 

Moriarty rolled his eyes. “Alright,” he huffed. “Johnny, I want you to go sit on the bed.” 

John hesitated. His legs didn’t want to move but with Moriarty grabbing onto his hand, he led him over to sit on the plush bed that was covered with black silk sheets. John found himself sitting and staring as the two men started to undress. _Oh Christ, this really is going to happen._ John thought panicky. He turned his gaze away towards the window again. Staring out at the gorgeous scenery made him feel warm and peaceful even with the situation he was in. _Maybe this won't be so bad,_ John thought. He wondered if Moriarty would even let him go out and explore the area. 

“Johnny.” 

John turned his gaze towards Moriarty who was fully nude. He looked well toned and muscles formed in the right places. Not to mention his cock was long, thick and erected. John couldn’t help but stare. The criminal looked sexy as hell, forcing his cock to twitch with excitement. Then he turned to Crowley and he looked well formed and muscled in the right places, too. His cock was a little shorter but slightly thicker than Moriarty’s and just as hard. John wasn’t for sure he was ready for this.

Crowley’s eyes were focused on John as he walked over and caressed the doctor’s cheek. “I want you to fuck me,” he said seductively. 

John felt numb. He wasn’t for certain he could. 

Moriarty walked up and muttered, “I think we should play with Johnny first, Crowley.” 

Crowley nodded in agreement. “Whatever you say, poodle.” 

Moriarty placed a hand on John’s chest and pushed him back while he climbed onto the bed beside him. “Your heartbeat is beating wildly, pet. It’s like music to my ears.” Moriarty started to trail kisses down John’s throat while his hand moved down the doctor’s torso until it reached its prize. “Mmmm, someone’s enjoying this,” he murmurs against John’s throat.

John gasped when he felt Moriarty’s cold fingers wrap around his cock. He closed his eyes, afraid that Moriarty was just doing this as a distraction and that he was going to bite down on him at any second. 

“He’s so tense,” Crowley interjected as he sat down on the other side of John. 

Moriarty sat back and saw John’s eyes were tightly closed. He looked at Crowley who seemed to want to speed things along so maybe the King of Hell was right that perhaps it would be better for John to fuck Crowley. Mainly because Moriarty wanted to fuck John so it seemed like that was the best thing to do. “On your back, Crowley,” Moriarty demanded. 

Crowley smirked and moved, making the bed dip as he moved to the center of the bed. 

Moriarty leaned down to whisper into John’s ear. “Johnny, open your eyes.” When John did Moriarty smiled softly at him. “I want you to move between his legs.” 

John turned to see that Crowley was lying on his back, head resting on a pillow with his legs spread wide so it was easy for John to settle between them. He then turned back to Moriarty who was still staring at him while his hand was stroking his cock. 

“Come on, Johnny,” Moriarty insisted. 

John gathered himself enough to turn over and crawl in between Crowley’s legs. He knew what he needed to do but he had no lube. 

Suddenly Moriarty reached over John’s shoulder with a small bottle of lube and said, “Never say I wasn’t one to think of others.” 

“You’re a prince,” Crowley smirked.

“I know,” Moriarty mused. 

John wondered what the history was between these two and then thought better of it. Maybe he didn’t want to know but something told him he should find out. So he swallowed down the lumped in his throat to ask, “You two seem to know each other rather well.” 

Moriarty pulled back his hand holding the bottle before John could take it from him and popped open the cap. “We’ve known each other for thousands of years, pet.” Moriarty squirted some lube out into his hand and reached around to John’s cock. He was coating it up with lube while enjoying the little coos jumping from John’s throat. _I’m going to keep you forever, Johnny boy. I’ll never be bored._ Moriarty thought to himself. 

John wasn’t excepting Moriarty to lubricate his cock for him but he must admit that it felt good. He was even letting some small moans escape his lips. Never had any of his past lovers done anything like this for him. He was the one doing most of the work so it was nice that someone was making an effort on his behave. _No, stop it. He’s trying to confuse you. Damn it, John, you need to run._ Sherlock’s voice hissed in John’s mind. John agreed that he should fight this but what could he do? Both men weren’t hurting him so what was the point to fight it? They wanted him more than anyone else had. More than even Sherlock wanted him because the detective was married to his work, the damn git. Why couldn’t Sherlock just want him? Why? 

“Stop thinking so much, Johnny. Daddy wants you to thrust your hips,” Moriarty purred into his ear. 

John looked down to see that his cock was pressing against Crowley’s opening. He wasn’t for sure he wanted to without preparing him first but then Crowley growled, “Just do it.” 

Without any more delay John thrusts his hips, driving his cock into Crowley and forcing a moan out of the demon’s mouth. 

“Christ,” John breathed. 

“Fuck, that’s…” Crowley hissed but was cut off when John pulled back and thrusts again. Thankfully Crowley’s body was giving him a few more inches. “Fucking hell, pet,” Crowley moaned. 

“That’s it, Johnny, just a little bit more,” Moriarty encouraged. 

John pulled back and thrusts one last time. He was fully buried inside Crowley now. “Jesus Fucking Christ,” John groaned. Crowley was so tight around him and fuck that it felt surprisingly good. 

“He can’t help you,” Crowley replied sarcastically. 

John rolled his eye as he huffed, “I wasn’t calling for him.” 

“Good because there isn’t enough room for him anyway,” Moriarty murmured, pressing his body against John’s. 

John’s jaw clenched as the felt Moriarty’s hard erection pressing into his back and at this point he didn’t see himself holding back anymore sarcastic remarks. “Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in my back or are you just pleased to see me?” 

Moriarty busted into a fit of giggles. “Oh, Johnny, you’re full of surprises.” 

“I know,” John replied. 

“Uh, you can start moving now, tiger,” Crowley announced, moving his hips slightly to urge John to do so. 

“If you insist,” John said, pulling out and thrusting back in as hard as he could. It made Crowley moan but he said nothing else and John found a steady rhythm as he continued to fuck the King of Hell. 

Moriarty was enjoying the sight before him but he was feeling slightly left out. He used the bottle of lube and squirted some onto his fingers. “Don’t stop, Johnny.” Moriarty found John’s entrance and slid a finger inside. 

“Shit,” John gasped. He slowed down but he didn’t stop. “Moriarty, what are you…” 

“Jim, please,” Moriarty interrupted. 

“Fine. Jim, what do you think you’re doing?” John asked harshly. 

“I’m going to fuck you while you’re fucking him but unlike that slut you need to be prepared otherwise I’ll hurt you,” Moriarty explained. 

“Hey, who you calling a slut, you little twit,” Crowley growled. 

“I just call them as I see them,” Moriarty smirked at Crowley. 

“Bite me,” Crowley moaned. It was suppose to sound more like a snarl but with John thrusting into and starting to hit his prostate, it didn’t sound as threatening as he hoped it would.

Moriarty smiled wickedly, “Perhaps after Johnny’s getting his rocks off.” 

John snorted while enjoying the insults between the two because there was so much sexual tension there that John could cut it with a knife. “Clearly you two need a little alone time so don’t let me stand in your way."

Suddenly Moriarty inserted a second finger causing a moan to escape John’s lips. “Maybe later, pet. Right now this is all about you and I must confess that Daddy can’t wait to be inside you.” He added a third finger and John let out low groan. It hurt but yet it felt good at the same time. For reasons unknown John was craving to be filled with Moriarty’s cock, however, he did not was to speak those words out loud. Slowly Moriarty moved his fingers in and out as he was scissoring John open. He wanted to make sure that John was good and open so he could take him with ease. 

“Fuck, that’s good,” John breathed out. He started to move his hips again in time with Moriarty’s fingers sliding in and out of his hole. 

After a few more thrusts Moriarty knew John was ready and slowly slipped his fingers out. John made a noise of protest at the loss of Moriarty’s fingers inside of him but that quickly changed to him moaning when Moriarty’s cock pressed against his opening. 

“Deep breaths, Johnny boy,” Moriarty whispered into his ear. 

John did as he was told and took deep breaths as Moriarty pushed his cock inside of him. “Shit, Jim, it…” John began but was cut off when Moriarty began to rock his hips, pulling out and thrusting back in. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Such a good boy, Johnny, for pleasing Daddy,” Jim purred, keeping his thrusts timed with John’s. 

“Harder, tiger,” Crowley growled low, his hips rising up to meet each thrust. He felt himself getting close and started to pump his own cock but John swatted his hand away. 

“Allow me,” John insisted. He took Crowley’s cock in his hand and began to stroke it with each hard thrust. 

“Bloody hell, you’re amazing,” Crowley moaned, grabbing onto the head board to steady themselves. “Our own personal sexy slave.” 

“No,” Moriarty hissed. “He’s more than that, Crowley, so much more.” Moriarty felt the heat in the pit of his stomach. He was growing close to exploding his load inside of John. The thought almost made him cum right then and there but he was holding out. He didn’t want to do it too soon. 

John wasn’t thinking coherently enough to respond to Moriarty’s words but he was curious at what the criminal meant. What did he mean by he was so much more? He wanted to know but he felt a familiar heat growing in his lower abdomen. “Fucking hell,” he bit out through gritted teeth. “I’m close.” 

Moriarty quickened his thrusts and turned enough that he was hitting John’s prostate. “Then cum, Johnny,” Moriarty demanded. “Do it for Daddy.”

“Ooh, Jim,” John groaned while his hand sped up on Crowley’s cock. 

“Son of a b…” Crowley chocked out as he started to cum all over John’s hand and stomach. 

“Tell me when you’re going to cum, Johnny,” Moriarty said, thrusting faster into John. 

“I’m close. Fuck I’m almost there, Jim. Just a little bit more and…” John was about to scream but it was bushed from his throat when he felt something clamp down on his neck, piercing his skin. At first it took his breath away because it hurt too badly to scream but then the pain eased up and for some reason John felt like he was floating. “Jim…” he breathed. It was nothing like he’d experienced before. It was better than any drug and John for the life of him didn’t want it to stop even though he knew it should. 

“Johnny,” Moriarty mumbled as he bit down on John’s neck the moment they came simultaneously. It was better than he expected it to be. So much better and he never wanted to stop. 

“Jim,” Crowley spoke up after a few moments. “You’re going to kill him if you keep that up.” 

Moriarty finally pulled back realizing what he was doing. John fell back onto Moriarty, tired and ready to pass out. “I’m going to keep you,” he whispered into John’s ear.

“Okay,” John agreed, not realizing what was going on. He was lost in the afterglow of his mind blowing orgasm to try and stop what Moriarty was about to do. 

Moriarty bit down onto his own wrist and reached around, placing his wrist against John’s lips. “Lick it, pet.” 

John flicked out his tongue and wrinkled his nose at the offal coppery taste now in his mouth. “Can I have something to drink?” John mumbled half asleep. 

Moriarty smiled devilishly. “In a few hours, pet, you can have the world,” Jim promised. “But, until that time right now it’s time for you to rest.” 

John nodded. “Alright, Jim,” he said, eyes fluttering closed.

Crowley helped Moriarty by laying him down on the bed beside him so the two could move off the bed without disturbing John too much. Moriarty covered John up and stood there for a few moments watching the doctor sleep. He then turned and walked over to his clothes and pulled out his mobile. His fingers were typing furiously. 

Crowley appeared beside him and asked, “What are you doing?” 

“What do you think I’m doing? I’m texting Sebby with instructions,” Moriarty snapped. 

“Why? You already have him.” 

“That’s not good enough.” 

Crowley took the phone out of Moriarty’s hands.

“Give. It. Back,” Moriarty snarled. 

“Not until you tell me why,” Crowley stated calmly. 

Moriarty sighed. “Because I have to end this and it will show where his loyalty lies.” 

“What if it back fires on you?” 

“I’m willing to take that chance but if Johnny knows what’s best for him then he won’t turn on me.” 

Crowley sighed and handed Moriarty back his phone. “Yeah, well Sherlock isn’t alone this time. He has the bloody Winchesters on his side.” 

“Well, I have you,” Moriarty retorted. 

“Not if this goes to shit like I think it will,” Crowley replied bitterly. 

“What are you worried about? I know what I’m doing. I beat Sherlock before and this time I know I have for good. Johnny is mine. He can’t have him back.” 

“You don’t see the big picture, Jim. Not like I do but you will, however, by then it will be too late.” 

“What the hell is that suppose to mean?” Jim snapped angrily. 

“It means I hope you didn’t bite off more than you could chew. Trust me when I say the Winchesters aren’t ones to trifle with.” 

“Sounds to me like your scared of a few little humans,” Moriarty mused. 

Crowley grabbed Moriarty by the throat and pushed him back into a wall. “You’re bloody insane.” 

Moriarty chuckled. “Just getting that now, are we?” 

“Never underestimate me, Jim. I’ll send you with a one way ticket to purgatory.” 

“I guess you just as well then because I’m not backing down from this,” Moriarty bit out. They were panting hard just staring at each other before Crowley pulled away. Moriarty smiled triumphantly. “I know what I’m doing Crowley but I can’t do this without you.” 

Crowley turned his back to Moriarty. He stared at John who lay motionless in the bed. The doctor looked so beautiful and Crowley could see himself fucking the little blonde hair and blue eye soldier any day of the week. With a sigh, Crowley turned back to Moriarty and asked, “What do you want me to do?” 

Moriarty smiled and began to text on his phone once again. “Did you pack a bathing suit?” 

Crowley raised an eye brow at that. “No but who needs one when my birthday suit will suffice.” 

Moriarty hit send and smiled up at Crowley. “Then let’s go make them dance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think of this chapter? Did you like it? I hope so. Thank you for reading it. The more comments and kudos the quicker I get to writing it. So let me know what you think. It means to the world to me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope you enjoy. ^_^

The stench of chlorine burned John’s senses as he slowly came too. As he tried to sit up his head was throbbing like nothing he’d ever experience before. He turned his gaze to a sound of water dripping from the ceiling and each time it hit the floor was like a missile exploding in his ears. What the hell was wrong with him? When he looked around he recognized immediately where he was and groaned out of frustration. It was the same locker room Moriarty placed him in when he was the fifth pip. Why were they here? 

“Take it easy, Johnny, you’re body needs time to adjust.” Moriarty said, walking through the door with Crowley close behind him. 

The light from the door hurt John’s eyes and he quickly turned his gaze away. Everything ached and he felt something in the pit of his stomach eating away at him. Trying his best to ignore it, John turned his attention to the other two. “What is all this then?” John inquired, feeling irritated at the master criminal for bringing him here.  


Moriarty walked over and knelt down in front of John. “This, Johnny, is you reuniting with your old master because we need to show him you're with me now. You did want to see him again, didn’t you?” 

John’s eyes widen with horror. He knew from Moriarty's words and from the sudden change within him, what the criminal did to him but did he want Sherlock to see him like that, like a monster? What was Moriarty’s in game here anyway? The master criminal always had a backup plan for everything. So, what was he hoping to accomplish with this meeting? “You bastard,” John growled. 

Moriarty smiled wickedly as he reached out and caressed John’s cheek. “Don’t be angry, pet.” 

For whatever reason, John leaned into Moriarty’s touch. It felt comforting even though he hated him right now. He looked into those dark chocolate eyes and whispered, “Why are you doing this?”

Moriarty leaned forward and kissed John lightly on the lips. “Because, I own you and I want them to see that. After that we can go anywhere you like.” 

“But, why? Why can’t we just leave now and not see him at all?” John asked wearily. 

“Oh pet, do understand if we don’t he will never stop coming for you. Do you really want that?” 

John wanted to say yes but down casting his gaze instead. Why did they have to be here? At the place where they first met the mastermind known as Moriarty. John couldn’t stop thinking about Moriarty wanting to use him as a bomb and the fear it caused when he saw it in Sherlock’s eyes which made it all ten times worse. Christ, John didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want Sherlock to come but he knew the detective couldn’t stay away. John wondered if he got a hold of a phone if he could talk Sherlock into staying away. Probably not sense Moriarty was involved. John remembered how excited Sherlock got with trying to figure out the clues to their first game. It made John’s stomach turn only because innocent people got caught in the cross fire. Although he had to admit it gave him a rush as well. 

Both, him and Sherlock were broken in different ways which is why they worked so well together. In the ways they were they completed the other in the form of what they felt like they were missing. There was Sherlock with his lack of regard for others and John with his loneliness, so it was no mystery that they needed each other. But, now John felt compelled to stay away. He didn’t want to hurt Sherlock and he felt like he would because of the throbbing in his head and a growing hunger. He just wanted to make it stop. 

“How are you feeling, precious?” Crowley asked curiously. 

John looked up at Crowley and grumbled, “Like I got hit by a semi truck.” 

Moriarty leaned forward and kissed John’s forehead gently. “That will subside the moment you eat someone, Johnny,” Moriarty stated softly. 

John looked up at Moriarty puzzled. He wasn’t for sure he heard him right but the smile on Moriarty’s face told him he had. “Please, don’t make me.” 

“I won’t force you, Johnny, but know you won’t be able to resist. The hunger will be too painful to ignore and sooner or later you will need to feed.” Moriarty explained softly. “I care for you a great deal, pet. I wouldn’t have done this otherwise. But, we need to make him see that.” 

John looked at Moriarty with confusion, “Who?” 

As if on cue they heard a door open and Sherlock shout, “Moriarty! Show yourself you bastard!”

John covered his face with his hands. “No,” he whispered. 

Moriarty reached out and grabbed onto John’s wrists. He pulled his hands away from John’s face so he could look into those piercing blue eyes. “I’m right here, Johnny. I won’t ever leave you.” 

John looked back into those big brown eyes and asked softly, “Promise?” 

Moriarty nodded. “I’ll help you through this,” he said, standing to his feet. He helped John to his feet and pulled him against his body. They stayed like that another moment before they heard Sherlock yell, “Moriarty!” 

“Time to face the music,” Moriarty purred. “Stay here with Crowley until I say otherwise. I want to talk to him alone.” 

John nodded even though he wanted to see Sherlock but the other part felt like he couldn’t. He was a monster and knew Sherlock wouldn’t want him back. He sighed hating himself for getting sucked into the world wind that was Moriarty because he didn’t think he could ever go back. Things were different now and there was no changing it. He was slowly coming to terms with that, with the monster he knew that he was going to be. 

*****

“Gave you my number,” Moriarty said as he stepped out of the locker room, “Thought you might call.” 

Sherlock held up the colt in this hand, pointing it Moriarty’s head. “Where is he?” Sherlock growled. Moriarty looked just as content as Sherlock remembered. Aside from the fact of him being a vampire he still acted like he did the first time they met. He was standing with his hands in his pockets and that smug grin on his face, which made Sherlock want to punch it off of him. 

“Who? Oh, you mean Johnny boy. He’s here but he doesn’t want to see you this time I’m afraid. So I’m here to give you a message. Back off, my dear, or you won’t survive this game.” Moriarty warned. “I have enjoyed playing with him. The noises he was making as I thrusting my…” 

Sherlock cocked the gun. “Shut up!” He shouted. 

“What’s the matter, Sherlock? Don’t want to hear all the nasty little details of me gently opening him up so he was able to take my cock with ease? I was such the gentleman to my boy.” Moriarty purred. 

“He doesn’t belong to you,” Sherlock snarled, taking a step closer. 

“Oh, but he does. There isn’t a damn thing you can do to stop this.” Moriarty smiled devilishly. “The damage is done.” 

Sherlock was about ready to pull the trigger when John stepped out from where Moriarty had, his gaze trying to focus but the lights were almost too bright for him to focus. However, he knew he needed Sherlock to see what Moriarty had done. So, he stood with his back straight and eyes glued on his friend. “Lower the gun, Sherlock,” John said sternly. 

Sherlock’s eyes darted over John and widened at the realization of his deduction. “He turned you.” 

John wondered what gave it away but at this point he didn’t care. He could smell blood and wanted to find where ever that heavenly scent was coming from. “Yes, he did no thanks to you. I needed you, Sherlock. But, now that’s ship has sailed.” 

“We can make it work, John,” Sherlock begged. “I know we can. Please, just come home.” 

John shook his head. “No, I can’t. I’m a monster and…” he looked over at Moriarty who smiled at him. “And we monsters must stick together.” He looked back at Sherlock. “I’m sorry, Sherlock. But, our friendship is over.” It was the hardest thing John realized he had ever done. He wanted to kiss Sherlock and tell him everything was going to be alright but he was more afraid that he’d want to suck the life out of him more. He couldn’t risk it so he turned and headed for the door. 

“John, please no. Don’t leave me,” Sherlock pleaded. “I need you, John.” 

With John’s back to Sherlock, he sighed, unable to face him. “I’ll hurt you, Sherlock.” 

Sherlock took another step towards him. “No you wouldn’t. I know you, John. You care too much for my safety. That’s why you shot that cabbie for me even though you barely knew me.” 

John turned, a small smile playing on his lips. “No, you were being an idiot.” 

Sherlock smiled back at him before it completely vanished. “Please, John, come home. We can make it work.” 

Moriarty stepped up beside John and said, “It can’t work, Johnny. You’ll kill him. Even now you smell the blood, hear his heart as it pumps the blood through his veins. You want nothing more than to suck him dry. The hunger isn’t at its peak yet but soon you’ll have no choice. Why not just take it from him now?” 

“Because he’s my friend,” John replied weakly. 

“John,” Sherlock huffed. John looked up at Sherlock who stood with a knife in his hand. “Come home and I’ll give you what you need.” Sherlock cut into his hand and raised it high above him. Blood was dripping from it and onto the floor. 

John looked at him with hungry eyes and started to move towards the delicious smell when Crowley stepped out and grabbed onto John before he could reach Sherlock. “No!” John shouted, trying to fight off Crowley. “Let go of me. I want it!” 

“Calm down, pet,” Crowley purred into his ear. 

“What are you doing?” Jim snapped angrily at Crowley. 

“He’s not alone,” Crowley announced. 

*****

 _5 hours earlier._

“Little help here!” Lestrade shouted. 

It was all one big blur. When Sherlock turned to see his brother lying on the floor, he rushed to his side, unblinking and unable to think. Why couldn’t he think?

Lestrade held his hands over Mycroft’s chest. Blood was seeping through his fingers as he tried to cover the wound with his hands but unsuccessfully at trying to stop the blood from pouring out of him. “Stay with me, Myc,” Lestrade begged panicky through gritted teeth. “Please, just stay with me.” 

The battle was almost won. Sam and Dean were at Charlie’s aid while Castiel, Irene and Sherlock were protecting Mrs. Huston. Lestrade didn’t see the attack coming until it was too late. A vampire grabbed ahold of Lestrade's gun out of its hoslter, holding it up so it was pointied right at his chest. At the very last second Mycroft stepped in the way of the bullet. 

“Gregory,” Mycroft mumbled weakly. He looked down at his chest and couldn’t believe how much blood there was. His gazed lifted to Sherlock who looked scared out of his mind. 

Lestrade followed Mycroft’s gaze up to Sherlock who looked paler then usually. “Sherlock!” 

Sherlock finally snapped his attention from Mycroft to Lestrade. 

“Call for a bus,” Lestrade demanded.

“Wait, you don’t need one,” Sam said, coming to stand beside Sherlock. 

“Yeah, Cas can heal him,” Dean added. 

“What do you mean?” Lestrade asked frantically. 

Dean pulled Lestrade out of the way so Castiel could kneel next to Mycroft. He placed his fingers on the elder Holmes’s forehead and within a matter of second Mycroft’s wound was sealed. “You should be fine,” Castiel said to Mycroft. 

Mycroft looked from his chest to Castiel, his eyes wide in disbelief as he mumbled, “How?” 

“Like I said, I’m an angel of the lord. I can heal people,” Castiel explained. He held out his hand for Mycroft who took it grateful as the angel helped him to his feet. 

Suddenly Lestrade was hugging Mycroft out of relief. “It’s alright, Gregory, I’m fine,” Mycroft said softly. 

Lestrade pulled away and nodded, “Good.” 

Mycroft then turned to Sherlock who stepped forward and embraced him. For a moment no one moved. They just stared, wide eyed and mouth’s a gap. 

Sherlock finally pulled away from Mycroft and their eyes locked. There was a silent conversation between the two brothers that no one would be able to understand. After another minute Sherlock turned to Castiel and said, “Thank you.” 

Castiel smiled as he replied, “You’re welcome.” 

“Hate to break this little Kodak moment, my dears, but sense none of us actually died, what are we going to do about Moriarty?” Irene asked. 

“Right,” Sherlock said, turning to the group. “I need to meet him alone.” 

Everyone being to speak at once, outraged that Sherlock would even begin to think he’d meet this head on by himself. 

Mrs. Huston shouted, “Everyone shut up!” All eyes turned to her. “Sherlock has a very particular way of doing things. He wouldn’t just shut all of you out. Let him finish.” 

Sherlock smiled fondly as he murmured, “Thank you, Mrs. Huston.” 

“You're welcome, dear. But, it's just this once. Remember I’m your landlady not your referee,” Mrs. Huston smirked. 

“So what is your brilliant plan then?” Dean huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“The first time I meant Moriarty was at a swimming pool and he used John as bomb. We thought we were going to die but someone changed him mind.” Sherlock looked over at Irene who smiled back at him. He turned back to the others. “Sense he has John once again he will want to meet alone to talk.” 

“Why do you have to be alone? Why can’t we be there with you?” Sam inquired. 

“Because he is making it personal,” Sherlock explained irritatingly. “He wants to rub it in my face that he has John.” 

“What if Moriarty turned John?” Charlie asked. 

“Well, if that’s the case then we need to get him away from this Moriarty before he feeds,” Sam replied. 

“Why?” Lestrade pondered. 

“We’d be able to change him back if he hasn’t fed yet,” Dean added. “If a vampire changed him and he didn’t feed, as long as we get the blood from the vampire that turned him we know a spell that could turn him back to human.” 

“So we need to get him away from Moriarty,” Lestrade agreed. 

All eyes turned to Sherlock. He seemed to be lost in his own world. Finally he said, “If that’s the case then Moriarty will want to rub it in my face that he turned John. I’ll do my best to try and get John away from him while you are nearby ready to assist me if something goes wrong.” 

“Fine,” Dean huffed. “But, I want you to protect yourself just in case.” Dean pulled out a gun and handed it Sherlock. “This Colt will come in handy. Don’t hesitate to you use it.” 

Sherlock knew what he meant and didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead he placed it in his coat pocket and said, “We need to go. Moriarty is waiting.” 

All agreed and headed for the door. Irene took Mrs. Huston and Charlie to her safe house while the others headed for the pool. 

*****

 _Now._

The others came storming into the pool. 

Dean, Sam, and Castiel growled in unison, “Crowley.” 

“Hello, boys,” Crowley smirked. 

“What the hell are you doing here, Crowley?” Dean demanded. 

“I fancied a swim. Care to join me?” Crowley asked, smiling devilishly while holding onto John. 

“So you’re working with a vampire?” Castiel asked. 

“Of course, Cas, why else would I be here. Jimmy and I go way back you see. But, he’d vanished for a short time. Something to do with this one,” Crowley said pointing to Sherlock. “It seems you kept my boy busy for a short. A pleasant distraction but I can tell you, Johnny here is ten times better.” Crowley leaned forward and licked John’s neck causing John to shiver. 

Sherlock’s hand tightened on the Colt as he pointed it at Crowley. “Let him go,” Sherlock snarled.

“Oh, I couldn’t do that,” Crowley purred. “He’s too much fun.” He leaned so his lips were right next to John’s ear. “Aren’t you, pet?” 

John’s gaze met Sherlock’s. He wanted nothing more than to go home to Baker Street but he was a vampire. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Sherlock. He knew he would if he did no matter what Sherlock thought. 

“John we can change you back,” Sherlock announced. 

John’s eyes grew wide. “How?”

“With my blood of course,” Moriarty replied. “It’s a spell and you need my blood in order to make it work. However, it’s not like you’d be able to get it from me.” 

John looked back at Moriarty and hissed, “Don’t be too sure about that.” 

Moriarty walked over and fisted his hand in John’s hair yanking it back. “Maybe I should just drag Sherlock into the pool right now. How long do you think he could hold his breath because unlike him I don’t need air to breathe since I’m already dead?” 

John felt a chill run down his spine. The thought of Sherlock floating face down in the pool was something he didn’t want to imagine but there it was. It made him angry as he fought his way out of Crowley’s hold. He turned to Moriarty and snarled, “If you so much as touch Sherlock again I’ll kill you.” 

Moriarty walked up to John and pulled his body again his own as he said, “I don’t need to because you won’t be able to stay away. You need me, Johnny, and the moment you realize that it will be too late.” Moriarty kissed John passionately and for whatever reason John couldn’t resist him. John gave into the kiss and for a moment it felt like it was just the two of them. Then Moriarty pulled back and lightly caressed John’s cheek as he whispered, “Come home soon, love.” Moriarty back away towards Crowley and within a bleak of an eye they were gone. 

John turned to his attention towards the others and his vision began to blur. “Sherlock,” was the only thing he said before he fell back as the darkness consumed him whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. What did you think?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter. Took me all day to do it but it was worth it. I just kept on seeing this play over and over in my head and I couldn't stop until it was done.
> 
> Comments welcome.

_“You need to feed, my sweet boy. The hunger is growing within you. Open your eyes, pet, and feed.”_

John obeyed Moriarty’s words and slowly opened his eyes. He found himself lying on a bed with the lights dimmed low. Where was he? How long was he out for? Why wasn’t Moriarty here? He should be here. _“Come home soon, love.”_ John remembered now. Moriarty disappeared after telling him he wouldn’t leave him. Why would he do that? He promised. “Lousily bastard,” John grumbled under his breath. He had to try to find a way out of here. So, he scooted off the bed and walked over to the door only to find it locked. “Of course,” he huffed, turning back around. There wasn’t much to the room. Just the bed which he could understand, it seemed they didn’t trust him with much else which was understandable. 

Suddenly, he heard a sound and turned to look up toward the corner of the ceiling. He wondered how he was going to play this. He didn’t want to hurt anyone but something told him that he might. _What if Moriarty is watching me?_ he wondered. With that in mind he needed to come up with a plan before he did. So as he smiled up at the camera, he smirked, “Hello, Sherlock." He sighed dramatically, hating himself that he had to play this off like he didn’t give a shit. “Why couldn’t you just let me go? You’re so selfish. A right git that always has to win but this time around you can’t beat him,” he paused before he added. “I’m proof of that.” John walked back over to the bed at sat down on the edge. His stomach started to ache but he showed no signs of distress on his face. “You don’t need to be afraid of me. Like you said at the pool, I could never hurt you. So, why don’t you come in here to talk to me?” He looked right up at the camera and smirked, “I promise I won’t bite.” He scooted back onto the bed until his back was against the headboard while his gaze moved to the door, waiting for someone to enter. 

*****

They watched the monitor with warily eyes, listening to John speak. It was eerily how John moved so gracefully without even trying, his words dripping with venom but meant to be soothing. Sherlock thought John was interesting before but now, now he wanted to keep John locked away. _No. He isn’t some experiment, he’s your friend._ Sherlock corrected himself. 

“Sherlock you can’t seriously be thinking about going in there,” Mycroft inquired. 

“But, I must,” Sherlock replied as he turned and headed for the door. 

Mycroft reached out and grabbed onto this arm to stop him. “Sherlock, I know you think he won’t hurt you but why do you think Moriarty let us take him?” 

Sherlock pulled his arm away. “I know why, Mycroft, I’m not an idiot. But, John’s my friend. He would never hurt me.” 

“Were you watching the same screen because the way I see it he is taunting you,” Dean said. 

“Maybe Sherlock’s right,” Sam murmured. “Look at what happened to you, Dean, when you got turned.” 

Dean shook his head. “There’s a slight difference between us, Sammy.” 

“Such as?” Sam asked curiously. 

Dean turned back to the screen. “When I was turned and realized it, I was freaking out. I almost hurt the people I cared for and still tried my hardest to protect them.” He pointed at the screen. “Look at him. He is just sitting there with a fucking grin on his face.” He turned back to Sherlock. “Make your deductions out of that.” 

Sherlock didn’t care. He just wanted to go in there and talk to John but the more he looked at the screen the more he come to realize that maybe just maybe Dean was right. His brow furrowed as he asked, “What do you suggest that I do?” 

*****

John knew Sherlock couldn’t resist because he would think he could fix things even though he couldn’t. So, it wasn’t a total surprise when the door opened and in stepped Sherlock.

“I’m surprised that Big Brother is letting you in here alone with me,” John said, a small smile playing on his lips.  
Sherlock frowned. “I want to help you, John.” 

“You want to…help me?” John started to laugh. It was cold and unkind. “Again you’re a bit late but thanks for stopping by.” 

“What’s the matter with you, John? You are acting like…” 

“Like a monster?” John snapped suddenly, cutting Sherlock off. “Like Moriarty? How else am I supposed to act?”

“Like you,” Sherlock replied simply. 

John shook his head. “That John is dead.” John spread his arms wide and smiled. “Meet the new and improved John Watson.” He lowered his arms while his gaze locked with Sherlock’s. “I have no pain, Sherlock. My leg, my hand…it’s all fine. It’s like I’m starting over with a new slate and I don’t need to worry about anything ever again.”

“Other than feeding off another human to stay alive,” Sherlock informed. 

John shrugged. “A small price to pay.” 

Sherlock stepped closer to the bed. “For who?” Sherlock spat angrily. “For you or for me or Lestrade or Mrs. Huston…who are you planning to take the life from first, John?” 

“No one,” John snapped. 

“Do you honestly think that? Why else would Moriarty just give you up so easily? He wants you to feed, John. On the people who care about you. I care about you.” 

That brought silence to the room. Both men just staring at each other for a long time before John said, “You care about me?” 

Sherlock took another step closer to the bed. “Of course, John, you’re my friend.” 

“I care about you too, Sherlock,” John replied softly. However, the hunger was growing with the smell of dry blood that John was trying his best to ignore. It had been from the cut Sherlock gave to himself back at the pool. It made him want the detective more. _You belong to me, Sherlock Holmes._ John thought, then pushed those thoughts aside. Why was he thinking like that? Sherlock didn’t belong to him.

 _“He could if you want him to, love.”_

John frozen, freaking out on the inside. Was Moriarty speaking to him in his mind?

 _“Yes, little one. I’m here in your head. My sweet loveable boy, they have you caged because they fear you. It’s like they don’t know you at all but Daddy does. You need to feed, love, and when you do you’ll feel so much better. After that, I want you to come to me.”_

John closed his eyes; hanging on Moriarty’s every word. “I…” he began to whisper but Moriarty cut him off. 

_“No need to speak out loud, pet, I can hear you. All you need to do is think it.”_

John wanted to frown but he kept his face impassive so Sherlock couldn’t see his distress. _“Why are you doing this? You said we could go anywhere after meeting with Sherlock. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”_

_“Oh, Johnny, that’s why I like you so much. You think you can fight what’s going to happen but you can’t. In the end the hunger will hurt too much to ignore. You will feed.”_

_“Why does it have to be them? Why couldn’t it be someone I don’t know?”_

_“You’re beautiful when you’re angry, Johnny.”_

“Tell me!” John shouted. He didn’t mean to shout the words. Moriarty just made him so angry. 

_“Because you need to prove to me that you belong to me. Show me, Johnny. Show Daddy what you want and take it from him. Do it, NOW!”_

Just then, John moved like lighting and grabbed onto Sherlock. He pulled Sherlock onto the bed and straddled him before Sherlock had time to register what was happening. John’s mouth was at Sherlock throat, licking and sucking, marking him as his own. “Christ, I want you.” John growled low. 

“John, stop!” Sherlock shouted panicky. He was trying to fight but with one hand John pinned Sherlock’s wrists above his head and with the other, John started to knead Sherlock through his trousers. 

“You know you want me, Sherlock. Your faithful little doggie, following you everywhere you go. Irene was right. Brainy is the new sexy.” John’s purred, his lips traveling to Sherlock’s ear. 

“John, _don’t_ do this,” Sherlock begged, struggling under the powerful grip. He couldn’t get free even if he tried. John was so much stronger than him. Where the bloody hell was everyone? 

“I’m sorry, Sherlock,” John whispered into Sherlock’s ear. “I don’t want too…” 

Suddenly John was toasted across the room. He looked up to see a man in a trench coat and two other men he didn’t know. Then he remembered them from the pool. Crowley had been talking to them. 

“Just stay down,” Dean warned. 

John smiled up at him, slowly standing to his feet. “Or what? It’s not like you’re going to kill me.” 

Dean and Sam pulled out their guns and fired. John looked down to see two tranquilizers in his chest. He looked up, his vision already starting to blur. “Bollocks,” he grunted before he fell over and was out before he hit the floor.

“No,” Sherlock shouted. They turned to Sherlock who was rushing over to John. “What did you give him?” 

“Something to help him sleep,” Dean said, looking smug. 

Sherlock stood and punched Dean in the face. Sam and Castiel stepped in the way of the two. “He was trying to tell me something,” Sherlock snapped. 

“How were we supposed to know when he was all over you?” Dean hissed, rubbing his cheek. 

“He wasn’t all over me,” Sherlock snarled. 

“Well, I guess I was watching a different kind of porno,” Dean growled. 

Sherlock was trying to fight his way to get to Dean when Mycroft and Lestrade came into the room. 

“Sherlock,” Mycroft said calmly. He and Lestrade grabbed onto Sherlock and pushed him out of the room. 

Sherlock was fighting against them. “No, I want to be with John.” 

“Sherlock, you can’t be with him,” Mycroft replied. “He’s a vampire.” 

Sherlock pulled out of his grip and stared his brother in the eyes. “A life without John Watson is no life. If we can’t change him back…” Sherlock let the words drift off but Mycroft knew how the sentence would end. 

Sherlock turned and walked until he was safe behind a closed door which was his temporary bedroom. He leaned against the door while his mind raced on. What was going to happen to John if they couldn’t change him back? It was one thing for John to live without him but the time that Sherlock was away from John about destroyed him. He couldn’t live without his blogger.

Peeling himself from the door he walked into the loo and looked at himself in the mirror. It seemed with John’s sudden outburst he left a few hicky’s on his neck. Sherlock traced his fingertips lightly over the newly formed bruises. He closed his eyes and imagined John’s hand kneading him through his trousers and his hand slowly shifted down to the front of his crotch. “John,” he moaned softly, longing for John to touch him again. _Maybe being a vampire wouldn’t be all bad,_ Sherlock thought to himself. He unzipped his trousers and pulled them down along with his pants while taking himself in hand. 

He began slow and steady strokes as he pumped his hand along his rock hard erection. The thoughts of John’s body on top of him, pinning him down so he couldn’t get away not only frightened him but they excited him. “John,” he moaned. The feel of John’s lips sucking at his neck, marking him as his own while kneading him was something Sherlock never thought John cable of. How wrong he was?

Sherlock pumped his hand faster with replaying John’s words in his mind. 

_“Christ, I want you.”_

That’s what John had said first. He wanted him and in a sexual manger. Sherlock was close to coming. “John,” he moaned a little louder. 

_“You know you want me, Sherlock. Your faithful little doggie, following you everywhere you go. Irene was right. Brainy is the new sexy.”_

That’s all it took for Sherlock to cum with a shout of John’s name on his lips. “Christ, John.” He grabbed onto the sink to steady himself. _This was wrong,_ Sherlock told himself. _You’re friend is suffering and you get off on it. What’s wrong with you?_ Sherlock reached for a towel and cleaned himself up before pulling his pants and trousers back up. He looked at himself in the mirror and frowned. It was wrong for him to do but the more he looked at the love bite on his next the more his brain began to think back to the last bit John said to him before he was thrown across the room. 

_“I’m sorry, Sherlock, I don’t want too…”_

What had John been referring too? Why did he say those exact words if not for their meaning? Sherlock rewinds to how calm John was when he first entered the room and then it was like he wasn’t listening to him at all. Then suddenly he attacked him. “Moriarty must have some kind of control,” Sherlock said out loud. He needed to go find the Winchesters because he needed to ask them some questions. Walking out of his bedroom he believed he was right (which he always was) then maybe what he figured out could help them to stopping Moriarty and help change John back. It sounded easy enough in theory but Sherlock knew it wouldn’t be but he’d do anything for John. Anything. 

*****

Mycroft was making tea when he heard the kitchen door open. “Hello, Gregory.” 

“Christ, I need to know how you do that,” Lestrade replied with fascination in his tone.

Mycroft look at him from over his shoulder. “Do what?”

“How you knew it was me walking through the door, I mean, you always know? Do I have some sort of tell or something?” Lestrade walked up behind Mycroft and wrapped his arms around the elder Holmes’s waist.

Mycroft smiled and turned his attention back to the tea kettle. “I’m just that good.” 

Lestrade made Mycroft turn around in his arms so they were face to face. “That’s a load of crap, Mycroft Holmes.” Lestrade pulled their bodies closer. “How?” 

Mycroft lifted a hand and began to run it through Lestrade’s hair. “The way you walk, you have a heavy foot pattern and your cologne. I can smell you before you enter a room.” He smiled down at him. “So yes, DI Lestrade, you have a tell.” 

Lestrade smiled as he nuzzled his face into Mycroft chest. He breathed in Mycroft scent, a mixture of mint tea, burin, and Cuir de Russe aftershave. However, his thoughts shifted to Sherlock and John. “What are we going to do, Mycroft? I’ve never seen John lose himself or Sherlock so afraid.” 

It was true. The only time Mycroft saw Sherlock distraught was when Redbeard died. Now, he was losing John. The only man that Sherlock let into his life and let himself care for which was his down fall, Mycroft knew. John was his one weakness and Moriarty knew that from the start of their game. Mycroft wanted to fix it all for his little brother but there wasn’t anything he could do to fix any of it. So, he wrapped his arms around Lestrade and held him tighter than before. “I’m not sure,” Mycroft replied with a heavy sigh. “I just know that we need to figure this out before someone gets hurt.” 

Lestrade pulled back and met Mycroft gaze, a small smile playing on his lips. “Agreed,” he replied softly. They started to lean into one another but the sound of foots steps made them quickly pull away. 

“Well, the vamp is back on the bed and the door is locked,” Dean said walking into the room with Sam and Castiel right behind him. 

Mycroft was pouring some tea while Lestrade sat down. Both men acting as though nothing was amiss but they knew better. “I want to thank you for assistances, gentleman.” 

“Anytime,” Dean said, dismissing the sudden awkwardness. He walked over to the fridge and opened the door. “Got any beer?” 

“Unfortunately no,” Mycroft murmured, “I could send one of my men to go get some if you wish.” 

Dean shook his head. “Nah, I can go on a simple beer run. Where’s the closet store?” 

“About thirty miles from here,” Mycroft replied. 

“What?” Dean huffed out. “Are you kidding me?” 

“It’s called a safe house for a reason,” Mycroft retorted. 

“I’ll take him,” Castiel muttered. “We’ll just pop in and out.” 

“Be careful,” Sam said, implying about Crowley.

“No worries, Sammy, we’ll be back before you know it,” Dean smirked and then him and Castiel were gone.

*****

“Do you get a vib from those two?” Dean inquired. 

“Which ones? Sherlock and John, Mycroft and Lestrade or Irene and Charlie,” Castiel replied, following Dean down the chips aisle, holding snacks in his hands. 

Dean turned and frowned at him. “That woman isn’t going anywhere near Charlie. Besides she isn’t her type.” 

“How would you know what Charlie’s type is?” Castiel asked. 

“Because, I just know. That woman is dangerous, smart, sexy…” 

“It sounds like you admire her,” Castiel said bitterly. 

Dean ignored him as he kept talking. “But, she is also a criminal and only in it for herself.” 

Castiel’s brow furrowed. “Then why is she willing to help us?” 

“Because, she thinks you’re the winning side.” 

Both men turned to see Crowley standing behind them. “Crowley,” they both snarled. 

“Hello, boys,” Crowley smirked. 

“Why are you here?” Dean snapped.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Crowley murmured. 

It took Dean a second but from the smile on Crowley’s face he soon understood. “You want to make a deal.” 

“See, you do understand me and I thought you were just another pretty face,” Crowley purred. 

“What do you want?” Dean huffed. 

“What I want is what you want, Squirrel.” 

“Which is what?” 

“To stop the big bad wolf from huffing and puffing and blowing your house down,” Crowley mused. “Isn’t that what you want?” 

“Why would you help us?” Castiel asked. 

“Can’t it be just out of the kindness out of my own black heart?” 

“No,” Castiel and Dean said simultaneously. 

“Right, then,” Crowley agreed. “I am here because that little spider needs to be stepped on. I’ve come too far for all my plans to turn to shit now.” 

“You can’t control him so you want us to take him out, is that it?” Dean mused. “Why would we want to help you do that?” 

“Because so many more lives would be spared. Think about that and this, without my help you won’t be able to get close enough to him to get the blood for Johnny.” 

“Since when do you care?” Dean asked. 

“I didn’t care. Sherlock is a side project of his that was a good distraction for him. It was no big deal until he got attached.” Crowley hissed. 

“You mean to John?” Dean replied. “Why would that be a problem?” 

“It’s one thing to obsess over something you like but it’s another to crave someone you start to develop feelings for when you’re a complete bloody psychopath like Moriarty. He doesn’t do feelings and yet he can’t get handle on John.” Crowley explained. 

“You think John is his weakness?” Dean said. 

“Sweetheart, I know he is,” Crowley mused while licking his lips. “He felt so good, too. Just like I imagine you to be, darling.” 

Dean shivered realizing what Crowley was insinuating. Castiel stepped in the way. “Over my dead body,” Castiel growled. 

Crowley laughed. “We could make it a threesome. Wouldn’t want to leave you out, Cas.” Crowley stepped closer to Castiel and lifted his hand to Castiel cheek, caressing it lightly. “I remember a time when we meant something to one another. Did you forget, Cas?” 

Castiel dropped the snacks out of his hands and grabbed onto Crowley’s wrist. “How could I forget what you did?”

“What I did? You wanted it, Cas, or did we forget how you begged me not to stop?” Crowley grinned. 

“Shut up,” Castiel warned. 

“Saying my name like candy on your lips, needing more of me as I…” Crowley was suddenly cut off when Castiel grabbed him by the throat and pushed him into a nearby cooler door. 

“I said shut up,” Castiel snarled, face red with embarrassment. 

Crowley laughed. “Well, it’s not like you didn’t find someone to replace me. Dean is a find choice, Ducky.” 

Castiel was about to stab Crowley when Dean grabbed onto his wrist. “Cas, don’t. He’s right. If we stand even half a chance to stopping this alpha vamp then you need to let him go.” Castiel’s grip tightened on Crowley’s throat, crushing his windpipe. “Cas, please. We need him.” 

After another minute passed before Castiel released Crowley’s throat causing Crowley to cough as air filled his lungs. Castiel moved away from them trying to calm himself. 

“Well, this has been fun,” Crowley smirked. 

“What’s the plan, Crowley?” Dean asked. 

“So eager, I like that. However, that comes later. He’s calling me back. Must not keep him waiting but let’s do this again. Maybe a little less clothing, I’m sure we could find another use for that mouth of his.” Crowley gestured to Castiel. 

“Fuck you,” Castiel spat angrily. 

Crowley grinned. “That’s the plan, love.” Then Crowley was gone. 

Dean wasn’t for sure what just transpired here other then he learned Castiel and Crowley either use to date or just fucked or…he pushed those thoughts quickly aside. He didn’t want to think about that. Castiel belonged to him and he wasn’t about to let Crowley touch what was his even if they had a history, once upon a time. Dean walked up to Castiel and forced him to meet his eyes. “Don’t listen to him, Cas. He’s an asshat.” 

Castiel smiled slightly before frowning once again. “I’m sorry I never told you. He just never brought it up before and…” 

“I don’t need to know anything you aren’t ready to tell me, Cas,” Dean murmured, taking the angel in his arms. “I care about you. I need you. Don’t let his words rattle you.” 

Castiel closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of being in Dean’s arms. It wasn’t often they had alone time together since they discovered they had feelings toward each other. This was one of those moments that Castiel wished could last longer but when Dean pulled away it was all Castiel could do to just not fall apart completely.

“I’m here for you, Cas,” Dean said soothingly. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel replied softly. 

“Okay, let’s get back before they send out a search party,” Dean muttered, grabbing some beers from the cooler as Castiel picked the snacks from off the floor. They disappeared within a blink of an eye. 

From behind one of the snack shelves a man with blonde hair stood with a grin on his face. He lowered his phone and began to type out a message that read as follows. 

_Crowley is up to no good. – SM_

He then attached a few photos he took and hit the send button. A moment letter he received message that read.  
_Thank you, Sebby dear. Now get back here. Daddy has something he wants you to do. – JM_

Sebastian Moran smiled down at his phone, pleased that Moriarty was happy for the not being discovered. He headed for the door as he typed out. 

_On my way, sir. Be there in ten. – SM_

Another reply. 

_I can hardly wait, tiger. xoxox – JM_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? I hope you enjoyed this. Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me so long to update this story. I've been working on so much lately but I thank you for those that stick by me for so long. 
> 
> This is a comic book I'm working on writing. It is fun with a zombie and his ghost that travel to Normal, Ill to save the world. If you like the old style Danny Phantom cartoon then you'll love this. Check it out. 
> 
> https://www.facebook.com/normcomic/

When Sherlock entered the kitchen he was surprised to see the troubled looks on everyone’s faces. “What is it?”

Dean looked up at Sherlock and said, “We might have a slight problem.” 

Sherlock took a step forward. “What do you mean?” 

“The man back at the pool known as Crowley,” Sam began, “He meant up with Dean and Cas at the store to make a deal.” 

Sherlock’s brow furrowed. “What kind of deal?” 

“He wants our help to take out Moriarty,” Mycroft explained. 

“Well, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Sherlock asked. 

“Not really,” Dean replied. “Making a deal with Crowley is making a deal for your soul. Now, we’ve done it once or twice and it’s not all that it’s cracked up to be.” 

“Will it save John’s life?” Sherlock murmured. 

“Sherlock, it’s not that simple,” Mycroft replied. 

Sherlock slammed his fist down on the table causing everyone to jump. “Will I be able to turn John back to human by doing this?” 

“In a matter of speaking, yes,” Sam replied bitterly. 

“Good,” Sherlock turned and left the room. He made his way back to John’s room and opened the door.

“I wondered if you were going to come see me again,” John cooed. He was strapped down to the bed and unable to move. Turning his head enough to watch Sherlock step into the room and lock the door behind him once inside. “Someone’s bold.” 

“Stop this, John. I know you. This isn’t you.” 

“Oh don’t give me that loud of shit, Sherlock. We both know this me is way more interesting to you.” 

Sherlock shook his head. “But, it’s not the John I fell in love with.” 

John studied Sherlock carefully. He could hear Sherlock’s heartbeat pounding wildly in his chest. It was music to his ears. “Why are you here?” 

“I want to know how to get in touch with Crowley.”

“Why?” 

Sherlock moved closer to the bed and said, “Because, he might have the key to undoing this.” 

“Who says I want to go back to being a poor accuse for a human?” John spats out. “I’ve never felt so alive with being dead. Why would I want to go back?” 

“Because, you are an extraordinary man, John, and I would be nothing without my partner, my blogger and my friend.” 

John stares lonely at Sherlock before bursting into a fit of giggles, “You really are desperate, aren’t you? You’re nothing but a fool, Sherlock Holmes, and I intend to watch you burn.” 

Sherlock stepped closer to the bed so now he could see the darkness in John’s eyes. There was so much hate there. Why did his blogger hate him so? “Surely, you don’t mean that, John?”

“Oh, but I do. When I get free I’ll be sure to make you watch as I rip everyone from your life and turn you. That way you can live with it forever.” John laughed and Sherlock shot out, gripping his hair.

“Tell me you don’t mean that,” Sherlock hissed. 

“You know it to be true, lover,” John cooed. “Mmmm, I can smell the arousal on you. Has someone been thinking about me? How delightfully delicious.” John thrusts his hips up and laughed when Sherlock’s hands tightened into fists. “Oh, don’t be like that, lover. I’m sure if you loosen these ropes I can make it up to you.” 

Sherlock turned his back to John. He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breathes to calm himself. “This isn’t you.” He turned back to John. “I promise you I will kill Moriarty and bring you back to me.” 

“You can’t kill him, Sherlock. He’s too powerful and he won’t let you anywhere near him,” John hissed. 

“If that being the case then I’ll just keep you here forever,” Sherlock growled. He crawled up onto the bed, making it dip as he straddled John’s waist. “You don’t belong to him, John. You belong with me.” Sherlock bent down and gently began to suck on John’s neck. 

“Fuck you,” John hissed, struggling against his restraints. “Stop it!” 

“What’s the matter, lover,” Sherlock purred against John’s neck. “Can’t handle it?” 

“I’ll fucking gut you,” John snarled. 

“Like hell you will,” Sherlock smirked. He licked and sucked at John’s neck, enjoying the way John squirmed beneath him. “Tell me you’re mine, John.” 

“No,” John bit back. “I belong to Moriarty.” 

Sherlock’s hand shot out and gripped John’s throat. He started to squeeze. “I know what you like, lover. This is what you want. I can give it to you.” His hand released and began to travel down John’s torso. “I want to give you the world, John.” Sherlock’s hand rested against John’s erection, pressing against his jeans. “Just tell me where he is and I’ll give you release.” 

John was moaning and bucking his hips up into Sherlock’s hand. His arousal was strong, the need almost unbearable. He wanted…no needed to cum but not like this. “Go to hell,” John finally growled. “I’ll never give into you.” 

“Fine,” Sherlock pulled his hand away and he savored the way John whimpered at the lack of his touch. “I was going to do this the easy way but I can see you don’t want to play.” Sherlock pulled out a knife and placed it against John’s throat. “Why don’t we play another game? One that I know will drive you mad.” Sherlock placed the knife to his hand and cut it. He watched John’s eyes turn black and his fangs grow. “What’s the matter, lover? Can’t take it?” 

“Get the fuck off of me,” John shouted. 

“Not until you give me what I want. Then I’ll give you release.” 

John shook his head. “No!” 

“Why are you protecting him, John? We’re not like him.”

John glared up at Sherlock. “That’s a loud of shit and you know it.” 

“John, please…” 

“No! You listen to me, Sherlock Holmes, I was a good man once. Until I meant you I was a good man and now…look at me. You did this to me. Not your brother, not Greg, not Moriarty, YOU!” 

Sherlock flinched at John’s cutting words. “John, I…” 

“Just leave me alone. We’re done. I don’t belong to you. Now, piss off.” John turned his head away from Sherlock. 

Sherlock was about to speak but instead he moved off of John. There was nothing left to say. Sherlock walked over to the door and opened it. Before he left he said, “I’m sorry, John. Really and truly, I’m sorry.” He walked out the door never look back. 

A silent tear ran down John’s cheek. He knew it was the only way to protect Sherlock. How he loved that crazy fool but Moriarty would use it against him. When he turned his head back to the closed door John smelt something. As he looked down at his chest there was a tiny little drop of blood…Sherlock’s blood. He could reach it with his tough but if he did there would be no going back. His stomach started to hurt as he continued to smell Sherlock’s blood. How he wanted it. John stared at it and not even with all his will power could he keep himself from sticking out his tongue towards that delicious smelling drop of his soon to be lover’s blood. 

*****  
“You wanted to see me?” Crowley asked as he stepped into Moriarty’s chambers. 

Moriarty was lying naked on his bed while draining the blood from a blonde. He pushed her off and she fell limp to the floor. Sebastian was in the corner and removed the dead blonde from Moriarty’s sight. “Come here, Crowley.” 

Crowley narrowed his eyes at Moriarty but did as he was told. “What’s this about then?” He settled on the bed and laid back. 

Moriarty moved swiftly, straggling Crowley hips. “My Sebby informs me you’ve been a little naughty. Care to share, why?” 

“Whatever do you mean?” 

“Don’t play coy with me, Crowley. You know I don’t have the patience from that.” Moriarty snatched up an angel blade out of nowhere. Crowley shifted slightly. 

“Now, let’s not do anything rash,” Crowley said. 

“Oh, you mean like this,” Moriarty draws the tip over Crowley’s cheek, causing Crowley to scream in pain. “Tell me why you were trying to make a deal with your little pets?” 

“I was trying to trick them. That’s all.” 

“Why don’t I believe you?” Moriarty cut’s across Crowley’s throat. “I could do this forever.” 

“You’re a fucking nuttier,” Crowley hissed. 

“And I’m going to fuck you into submission like the little bitch you are,” Moriarty snarled. He’s using the angel blade and rips away Crowley’s clothes. Moriarty then chains Crowley to his bed, bidding his wrists to the headboard. “It’s been a long time coming, Crowley, but I know you’ll be my good little cock slut.” 

“The Winchesters are going to kill you, Moriarty,” Crowley snapped. 

Moriarty laughed. “Not without trying to turn Johnny boy back first. But, for now…” Moriarty thrust his hips forward, driving his cock deep inside Crowley. The King of Hell lets out a dispatch scream. “Music to my ears.” 

“Go to hell,” Crowley hissed, knowing full well the irony in his words. 

“After you, my little cock slut,” Moriarty purrs and he pulls back and thrusts back into Crowley once more. “By the end of this I’m going to make you beg me for it.” 

“I doubt that,” Crowley snapped. 

“Oh, never doubt me, honey. I’ll take it as a challenge.” 

“Why don’t you get it over with,” Crowley hissed. 

“Because, I want to draw this out,” Moriarty purred. He pulled out slowly and pushed back in, hitting Crowley’s prostate. Crowley bit back a moan but he couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran through his body. Moriarty noticed like he noticed everything. “Mmmm, someone likes that.” He repeated the same action over and over again forcing a moan from Crowley’s throat. “That’s it, my little cock slut. Take it all in.” 

Crowley wanted to be anywhere but here. Getting fucked by the likes of Moriarty wasn’t on his to do list. They were supposed to be partners but it seemed his screwed himself over with that deal so not Moriarty was screwing him. Again the irony wasn’t lost on him. 

“I can feel how close you are,” Moriarty cooed. “Does my cock slut want to cum?” 

Crowley didn’t want to answer him but his erection wasn’t lying. He needed to cum and he was so damn close. But he didn’t want to give in to Moriarty. Giving in was giving up. “Piss off.” 

“Fine,” Moriarty reached behind him and turned back around holding a cock ring. He placed over Crowley’s cock and said, “If you don’t want to beg me for it then you don’t get to cum but how can I pass this up?” Moriarty began to thrust hard and fast into Crowley, hitting his prostate each time. 

Crowley was screams, moaning and trembling with need. He wanted nothing more than to be sent over the edge. The sound of skin slapping skin, their sweat slicked bodies and the pure animal lust was in the air. “Fuck,” Crowley hissed. 

“Oh, you feel so good, my little cock slut,” Moriarty snarled. “Such a good boy for daddy.” 

Crowley was no child and yet the dark eyes staring intently down at him made him feel small. How could this madman make him feel like this? He was the King of Hell and he was feared by so many. So how could Moriarty hold this much power over him? 

“Fuck,” Moriarty groaned as his body began to shake. He shot load after load of his cum inside of Crowley. After a few minutes he pulled out and replaced his cock with a butt plug. “This is to keep my cum inside you and this…” he hit a button and the butt plug began to vibrate inside of him. “This is to make you suffer because sooner than later you’re going to beg me to let you cum.” He leaned down and kissed Crowley on the lips. “My good little cock slut.” He moved off of Crowley and walked out of the room. 

Crowley began to test his bids but they were made of iron. There was no getting out of this. He was stuck and that meant bad news for the Winchesters. They didn’t know that Moriarty was there which means Moriarty was going to do something to cripple them. Perhaps he could make a deal with Moriarty in order to free him long enough to get a message to them. It was a long shot but he had to try. Even if he had to stoop as low as beg for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. ^_^

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think.


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